


Angel of the Battlefield

by LaVik



Category: Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice, DC Cinematic Universe, Justice League (2017)
Genre: Angst, Dysfunctional Family, Dysfunctional Relationships, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Evil Genius Lex, F/M, Original Character(s), Post-Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice, Romance, Slow Burn, Universe Alteration
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-24
Updated: 2018-01-19
Packaged: 2018-06-10 11:50:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 53
Words: 164,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6955327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaVik/pseuds/LaVik
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An unsuspecting prison nurse in Metropolis State Penitentiary becomes a strategically placed pawn in Bruce Wayne's vendetta against Lex Luthor. As the Justice League begins to form and a new threat to Earth draws near, the lines between ally and enemy blur.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

" _The fact of the matter is, Miss Branigan, that Mister Luthor has grown attached to you."_

Never in her life did Claire Branigan, a young nurse who worked in Metropolis State Penitentiary, imagine that she would be sitting in the back seat of a car, sandwiched between the _Batman_ , and a statuesque woman in a trenchcoat and sunglasses – and yet here she was. She had been waiting for the bus home to her flat when a hood was suddenly pulled over her face, and she found herself dragged into a car, driving along the outskirts of Metropolis.

"You're obviously his favorite nurse," the Batman said in his signature, almost garbled near-growl aided by the device built into his cowl.

"I'm the only one who'll agree to take care of him now," Claire said, unable to help a small roll of her eyes at the thought of it. Attached hardly seemed the appropriate word to describe the situation between herself and Lex Luthor. "He's not exactly a popular man, the attention he gets in lockup is hardly from fans wanting to shake hands with him. But he's in _prison_ , I don't see what more you want, mister…?"

"You don't really think he's completely cut off from his sources just because he's locked up, do you?" he asked, and Claire surprised to find that his tone was not sardonic, but rather almost sagely. She _did_ know better. She'd only worked in Metropolis Pen for six years, but six years was more than enough time to know that prison wasn't always enough to stop anyone. "Being in Metropolis State Pen isn't justice, Miss Branigan. Not the kind he needs."

"Danger is coming to our planet," the woman next to her said in a slightly accented voice. "Danger that would not exist if not for Lex Luthor's meddling in things which were not his to meddle in. We need to ensure that he will not create more problems we don't need. Enough suffering has come to the people of this city because of him."

"We know you. And we know that you don't have much to lose," the Batman picked up again, seeing the skepticism on the young woman's face at their request for her involvement. "You have student loans – fifty-thousand and counting. You're months away from being a nurse practitioner and you want to open a clinic for the poor and homeless in Metropolis. Change the world. You don't want to work in the prison, stitching up shank wounds for the rest of your life. We know about you."

At this, Claire tensed visibly, her eyebrows raising at the realization that the mysterious caped crusader from Gotham had done his homework. On _her_. She didn't know how – she lived a quiet life. She lived alone, rented a small apartment in Metropolis, and did only what was common sense, what was necessary to get by. This was ridiculous…

However, her lack of an argument or protest prompted him to move forward with his proposition. He knocked on the divider between the back of the car and the driver's area, where a panel slid open narrowly.

"I'd like to give Miss Branigan a down payment for her assistance."

The man in the front, who had purposefully positioned the panel and mirrors so his face could not be seen in order to presumably protect the identities of everyone in the car, passed a stack of bills through which the masked man then held out towards Claire.

"If you help us," he began, though the woman on Claire's other side looked down at the stack of money with disdain tugging at the corners of her lips, "you can have _all_ of those things. You can do all of those things."

A down payment, Claire thought silently as she gently took a hold of the money in her lap, as though touching it too forcefully would cause it to disintegrate. "I make good money," she said, hesitantly trying to hand it back, though her voice quavered and nearly cracked as she said it. "I don't need to do anything like this to get more."

"You get by. You make enough to put food on the table and a roof over your head at Metropolis prices. But I think you want more than that," he said coolly. "I know you want more than that. And you can have it, if you just help us make sure Lex Luthor stays out of our way. But you clearly need time to think."

A pause.

" _Keep the money_ , _"_ he said to Claire's great surprise. "We'll bring you home. The next time you hear from me, I'll expect an answer."

"You're gonna put the hood back on me now, aren't you?"

"Afraid so."

* * *

Diana Prince did not approve of the way they _accosted_ the young woman, threw a hood over her head like a hostage, and because she was far more discrete a presence than _the Bat man_ , she was glad that she was the one who delivered the young woman through her fire escape, safely back to her residence. However, when she returned to the car and resumed a seat alongside Bruce Wayne in the back while Alfred Pennyworth drove them back to Gotham, her expression showed vividly her displeasure.

"You're using your money to manipulate a young girl. She's a _girl_ , with dreams. She's innocent," Diana said, her arms crossed over herself. "You're no better than _him_. Claire Branigan is your Wallace Keefe."

Bruce recoiled slightly at the implication, but simply inhaled through his nostrils. She was deadly powerful, she was intelligent, but in his mind, she was wrong. Bruce did not see himself as using Claire as a pawn in the same way Lex had utilized Wallace Keefe. It wouldn't come to that.

"Prison isn't enough of a punishment for the danger Lex Luthor has put our world in."

"So you're going to sacrifice a _girl_ –"

"It isn't a sacrifice," Bruce interrupted sharply. "I'm in control of this situation, Miss Prince. If Miss Branigan accepts my proposition, we'll be able to monitor Luthor much better than we can if all of his operations are conducted through third parties while he's in prison."

"And when he finds out?"

Bruce tensed and glanced out the blacked out window of the moving vehicle. "We need to finish the job before it comes to that."

* * *

_**A Few Months Prior** _

* * *

Alexander Luthor Jr. was not made to be among these… peasants. Metropolis State Penitentiary was filled to brim with low-life scum who Lex knew were beneath him. They were _insects_. They were hardly worth his energy and consideration, until they were coming at him with a shiv and a fist. Even then, it wasn't so much a matter of worth as it was an inability to ignore.

It was perhaps this dissonance which had caused him to promptly go _limp_ like a rag doll, rather than react in any appropriate fashion when one particularly agitated inmate lunged at him. He wasn't made to fight barbarians – he was made to be entertained from a high perch of honor while they fought below him.

He came to, fully aware of the sharp pain in his side as he lay on his back on a rollaway cot in the prison infirmary – and a small smirk flickered onto his face, despite the pain, at the sight of a face that had by now had come to be familiar to him.

"My _angel of the battlefield_. My _Clara Barton_ ," he said with a weak chuckle, regarding the young woman's face from the side while she appeared to be jotting down notes in his chart, hunched slightly over the exam room counter. She appeared unfazed while she finished what she was documenting before straightening up to look at him so he could fully see her pointed nose, her dark eyes drawn into sharp relief while her hair was pulled back into a ponytail. She wore a standard pair of dark blue scrubs, a long-sleeved shirt underneath with the sleeves rolled up to her elbows. Her name tag, like all of the other infirmary staff, bore only her first name: Claire.

Lex found enjoyment in her exasperation at his nicknames for her, and it was perhaps the highlight of his day.

"The battlefield?" she scoffed. "You think you're some kind of war hero?"

"I wasn't aware there were different kinds, Nurse Claire."

"You need to stop getting your _ass_ kicked," she responded, glancing down at her watch and glancing back at Lex. About twenty breaths per minute, she estimated. He was still worked up from his encounter out on the prison yard, whether or not he wished to acknowledge it. He was anxious. On edge. Truth be told, she had come to feel a little bit of pity for him – there was no justification except for unadulterated vindictiveness to have _Lex Luthor_ out among the general population for any amount of time. The world blamed him for the death of Superman, and even prison inmates were slow to forgive such a crime. Now, knowing that he was more than likely a dead man walking – not because of his sentence, but because of his fellow inmates – none of the nurses had wanted the responsibility of caring for him.

It had just so happened that Claire had been out sick the day everyone else decided they would be delegating care of Mr. Luthor to someone else.

"You're making me work for my paychecks, Mister Luthor, and I won't stand for it," she said with a slight smirk, reaching into her pocket for her staff badge which she had to swipe to unlock the medication cart – it was nearly time for pain medication. She went into the cart to retrieve them and wordlessly placed them in a cup, handing them to Lex to take. He smirked and swallowed down the pills without water, knowing that this meant _wound care_ time. Assured that the pain medication would kick in soon enough, Claire maneuvered the hospital gown so that his bandaged side was revealed, the gauze tinged with blood through a few layers. She pretended not to notice him wince when she peeled back the gauze to look at the still inflamed but healing graze wound in his side.

" _One, two! One, two! And through and through_ ," Lex recited suddenly in a sing-song voice, his eyes glinting with something between mischief and mayhem. " _The vorpal blade went snicker-snack…_ "

Hearing the words caused Claire to snap to attention, removing her hands from him and looking him in the face with an expression like she'd just been doused with cold water. Instinctively, her hand went to her side, hovering over her ribcage.

"I saw your little tattoo – that first time you stopped them from skewering me," Lex smirked, cocking his head to one side. "Lewis Carroll. I'm intrigued. I hadn't expected to find a poetry savant among the troglodytes in this hole."

Caught off guard, Claire straightened her arms – she was shaken, but the story checked out. The first time she had been in charge of Lex's care had been when he was on his way in for a routine health check and another inmate was on his way out. The other man had somehow found the time and dexterity to fashion a shiv from a screw, a tongue depressor, and bandage tape, driving it into Lex's shoulder. With the guards rushing over, but still at a distance, Claire had stepped in and attempted to shove the assailant away, only to find that – since he was in trouble anyway – he grabbed a handful of her scrubs and yanked so that the side seam split, revealing her tattoo. It was a pair of verses from the Lewis Carroll poem, "Jabberwocky", with a chimera-like beast soaring and curving around it over her ribs.

It was the reason she wore a shirt underneath her scrubs now.

"Very observant," Claire said, finally managing to recover. "Maybe if you used that more often, you wouldn't be in here as much."

"But then I wouldn't be able to see _you_ , Claire," he said in a strange, calm tone, his lips again curling into a smirk. "And you are by far the highlight of these accommodations, I _must_ say."

But by this point, Claire had already gone back to tending to his wound, and his attempt as disconcerting charm was truncated by an agonized groan through gritted teeth while the wound on his side was cleaned.

"Charm will get you nowhere here, Mister Luthor. I can't be of any help to you, and the 'inmate charming the prison medical staff' concept has been done before. It was a _great_ television show," she went on, partially in order to use her voice to distract him from the pain of having the healing wound cleaned and rebandaged. "But you're an entrepreneurial genius. I expected more originality from you."

"So you admit it," Lex said, continuing to smirk through his pain. "I _am_ a genius."


	2. Chapter 2

"…so mister Brockwell will be changing the dosage of his blood pressure medication from five milligrams to ten, taken with breakfast."

Claire leaned back in her seat a little, stretching out her back that was slightly sore from having been on her feet all day the past few days for work. They had morning report every day at Metropolis State Penitentiary on all of the inmates, and while she recognized it was an important part of the day, she still at times felt like she would rather have teeth pulled than listen to half an hour of reports about everyone's steadily upticking blood sugars and blood pressures. It was inevitable, after all, with the slop they were fed.

"And next up on the roster is – your favorite patient, Claire," the charge nurse said, eliciting a chuckle from the rest of the nurses around the table. "Mister Alexander Luthor Jr."

Claire couldn't help but roll her eyes – there were times that, being the least experienced nurse in the infirmary, she felt like little more than a petulant child among adults, trying to play dress-up convincingly enough to not be sent away. This was one of those times. She sank slightly further down into her seat as the charge nurse went into report on their most illustrious patient.

"Mister Luthor may have a few medications onboard soon," the charge nurse said boredly, "if he's still on our roster for long after this new psych evaluation that just came in."

"He's had a psych eval complete since he was _brought_ here," Claire pointed out, leaning forward gently. "What do you mean, _if he's still on our roster_?"

"The memo attached to this eval is that they may be considering it _exculpatory_ ," the charge nurse answered. "That means it might be grounds to reconsider his conviction –"

"I know what it _means_ ,' Claire interrupted, gently pinching the bridge of her nose – the other nurses around the table already bristled in their disapproval at her show of defiance, and the tension they felt towards her was palpable. That new nurse, she knew they were thinking, was still so hotheaded, always grousing about following directions. She could already tell it was going to be a bad day.

"What kind of psychiatrist would sign off on a psych eval like that?" she asked in disbelief, reaching her hand out to collect Lex Luthor's medical chart from the charge nurse, who simply scowled as she handed the file over to Claire. She briefly skimmed over the report before resting her eyes on the name of the physician at the end: Doctor James Cavendish, Director of the Elizabeth Arkham Asylum for the Criminally Insane.

Arkham. Claire had only just heard of the place for the first time when she'd begun her internship at the Wayne Memorial Clinic in Gotham City – it was a bit of a commute, but one of the few places where she could finish her clinical experience to become a nurse practitioner, so she could open her own practice like she had always hoped. Gotham was a different beast from Metropolis entirely, and it had taken time to get used to, but now that she worked in Metropolis State Penitentiary, she had stopped placing the city on a pedestal.

The day, to her surprise, seemed to go on without incident – the normal checks of vital signs on the inmates were unremarkable, and her interactions with Mister Luthor remained limited, as he managed not to get himself into a fight on the yard. When she did see him for his daily vital signs checks, however, she glanced him over as was her routine and realized a strangeness in his expression – something like defeat.

"How are you feeling today, Mister Luthor?" she asked in a prim, professional tone, looking down at her clipboard rather than at him. She only looked up when he failed to answer. "Mister Luthor?"

"Soon, it won't matter that I'm in here," he said vaguely, his tone taking on a strange quality between humor an panic, his words leaving his mouth in a rapid string of staccato. "Something far bigger is coming. Something far worse."

"What?" Claire asked, her brow furrowing in concern while she glanced over, taking a few steps to make sure the door to the exam room was closed. "If you think something is going to happen to you, if you think someone is going to _harm_ you, you have to tell me –"

"Not me," he answered vaguely. "Something far bigger than me. Something that none of these simpletons would ever comprehend," he said with a grin tugging at his lips. "I'd have you safe if I could as well," he added with a dismissive shrug. "I can tell how much they _despise_ you here, you know. The other nurses. They despise you because you don't despise me."

"I'm just doing my job. It's nothing personal," Claire said, quickly looking away. It was only now that she was remembering the full weight of the words she'd heard from the _Bat Man_ himself – that Mister Luthor was growing fond of her. It had been so easy to dismiss at first, but now was no longer. And then, suddenly, she felt the question tumble from her lips as though it had fallen from a shelf in her mind and fallen out before she could catch it. "Did you have an evaluation done by a Doctor Cavendish, Mister Luthor?"

"I did," he said shortly. "I suspect it's made my situation worse? Like I said, I don't care anymore – this is far from over."

"I wouldn't assume so quickly, Mister Luthor," Claire said vaguely, knowing that she could say nothing more specific. "But you're going to miss lunch if I keep you in here longer."

"Always a pleasure, Nurse Claire," Lex smirked as he got to his feet. "Always a pleasure."

* * *

Claire wasn't sure why she found the exchange so unsettling, but it remained with her through the entire work day, through her entire commute home to her dingy flat. She needed a drink, badly.

She was already mentally perusing what she would have available to fill such a need in her kitchen as she was opening her front door, but when she pushed the creaky wooden door on its hinges, she realized immediately that first, it was colder than usual because the window was wide open, and second, that she was not alone in her apartment.

"Miss Branigan."

"Mister… _Bat_? Is that the appropriate title?" she asked, closing the door behind her and attempting to make light of the fact that her heart was now pounding. "I don't think there are rules of etiquette on how to address superheroes."

"Have you made up your mind?"

"He had an evaluation by a psychiatrist in _Arkham_ ," Claire retorted pointedly. "I know that place. I know what kind of place it is. And I don't have any doubts who's responsible for it."

"You were. Doctor Cavendish used your documentation to support his assessment," Batman responded. "You're an excellent nurse. Your notes were meticulous."

"That's not fair," Claire said, her mouth gaping in surprise. "I _had_ to be detailed. Lex Luthor is the most high profile inmate I've ever had as a patient and I'm the newest nurse there, if ever something were to happen and it showed up that I _missed_ something –"

"Are you willing to stand up in court and say that your documentation is only outstanding because you were covering yourself, Miss Branigan? That you perhaps weren't putting the same effort into your other patients?" he asked. "Because that's going to cost you your license. You'll never get to practice as a nurse again."

Her jaw clenched, and her arms stiffened at her sides – the Bat Man had her in a checkmate, and it was evident that he had done so with great intention. She fought back a sneer and instead drew in a deep breath. "I don't have a choice whether I help you or not, do I?" she asked,

"You always have a choice," he responded. "You can choose the way that will help us all, or you can choose the way that costs you the chance at fulfilling your dreams. It's still a choice."

At this, Claire was no longer able to help the expression of disgust that crossed her face – if Batman was supposed to be a hero, and this was supposed to be a way of delivering justice, then she had grown up with a very different idea of what justice was. She knew that Lex Luthor was a criminal, that he had done awful things, but she also was not a firm believer in the utility of vengeance.

"What do you need from me?" she asked in defeat.

"After I leave this evening, you're going to receive a phonecall," he explained slowly. "You're going to be cut from work due to budget constraints – you have already received funds in your account to hold you over. You will sign up with a nursing agency in Gotham, the manager will be waiting for you in the morning. And you will wait for further instructions."

"And Luthor?"

"He will be first transferred to the care of Doctor Cavendish in Arkham, and when the dust settles, Doctor Cavendish will see to it that Mister Luthor is positioned in a way where _you_ will be able to monitor him."

"So until then, I just sit tight and wait for _Master Bat_ to tell me what to do?" she retorted, walking a few restless paces. "Why is this happening?"

"As of now, all I need from you," he answered, avoiding direct response to her question of his reasons, "are sharp ears and open eyes. Like I said, it's easier to keep an on someone out in the open than when they're underground."

The response made Claire tense further – first and foremost, this was a _patient_. This was someone that she was charged in some capacity of _caring_ for, and the almost predatorial air that the bat vigilante had for Lex Luthor left her feeling more than slightly unsettled. "This is terrible."

"You know what Lex Luthor is capable of orchestrating," he said with the utmost finality. "Helping us is the lesser of two evils."

"I think there are more than two evils, in all fairness."

"And you would be correct, Miss Branigan."

Claire Brangian's insight into her own situation – the insight that there were, in fact, a great number of evils surrounding them – lingered with Bruce even as he left her alone in her apartment, all along his trek back to Gotham. But he couldn't dwell too much on this part of his plan, when he knew that waiting inside, another part of his plan had yet to fall into place.

* * *

"I remind you, I am only here because of my respect for you," the long-haired, bearded man said, seated in a chair across from Diana Prince in the den of Wayne Manor as they awaited the master of the house. "Diana, the Amazons have been an ally of the kingdom of Atlantis for many years. I hope that you wager that alliance for a worthy cause."

"Arthur, please believe me when I tell you – Bruce is doing this with only the best of intentions. From one noble to another, I can assure you," Diana said gently. She, like Arthur Curry – Orin, as he was known in his own homelands – was wary of mankind and its worldliness, the state of disorder into which it had placed the _civilized_ world. This was the reason that she, too, had retreated from mankind until now.

" _Wayne Enterprises_ ," Arthur said with disdain. "You think that I do not see the kind of man he is?"

"He is more than that," Diana assured. "Please, Arthur – just stay and speak with him. Give him a chance."

"I think you'll find my intentions pure, your Highness. Mister Curry," Bruce added as he entered the den – and in his home, above ground, he was _just_ Bruce Wayne, just as his guests in his home were _just_ Diana Prince and Arthur Curry. "I know you don't want to be here. I know this is a favor to someone you trust far more than you trust me," Bruce said, stepping forward and casting a glance in Diana's direction – humbly, she directed her gaze downward rather than playing up the part she had played in getting him here.

"I'm pleased that you recognize this," Arthur said, crossing his sinewy arms over his broad chest. "I have little incentive to help your cities. Your ships. Your factories. I left my life among these things _long_ ago – and all of them are at odds with the interests of my lands."

"This is about more than cities and seas and tribes," Diana said, gently interjecting, placing a hand on Arthur's forearm. "This is something greater than all of us."

" _What_ is greater than all of us?"

"That, I cannot yet answer," Diana said, her face shaping itself into a frown as she shook her head. "But it comes from another world, and it is as great a threat to your seas as it is to the lands."

"And how do you know it is coming? How do you know it means harm?"

"Superman is _dead_ ," Bruce said simply, masking the pain that the statement brought him. "And because of Lex Luthor, the news has spread far beyond our reach. We _cannot_ assume that anything that comes in a time of weakness is anything but an enemy, Arthur. I'm not royalty," he admitted, gently shrugging and opening his arms in a plaintive, vulnerable gesture. "But I have people here that I have promised to protect. And I need to know that I have a friend in you, Arthur Curry. I need to know that when the time comes, you will be our ally."

Arthur paused, looking once back and forth between Bruce and Diana, reading each of them carefully. He had grown up on land – had spent his young life not far away from these same cities, but it was because he had known them that he had become disillusioned. He felt no need to be a protector of _these_ men.

But if things were as Bruce Wayne claimed, this was not a time to choose which men were worth protecting. Arthur gave a silent nod, and gripped Bruce's hand tightly when he presented it for a handshake. "If you call," Arthur said, looking back and forth between Bruce and Diana, "I will answer."


	3. Chapter 3

It had been six weeks of stagnation after being 'let go' from Metropolis State Penitentiary, six weeks of self-insulation from the news about Lex Luthor being deemed mentally incapable of reasonably deducing the gravity of his actions, then somehow deemed capable to continue leading LexCorp. Because, his attorneys had reasoned, his mental illness was a disability, and he could not be discriminated against because of it.

He had then, according to the news, spent a few weeks in an intensive program at the Arkham Asylum - a discovery which left Claire Branigan more than a little uneasy - and then been discharged home.

Discharged home. He had contributed to nearly burning Metropolis and Gotham both to the ground, and after all of it, he was back home. This was the society they operated within. These were the breaks. Claire wasn't sure if this was what she would have considered justice, but it hardly mattered.

Last night, however, she had received a phone call as promised from the nursing agency which she had been directed toward, and received her first assignment. It was as simple as the Bat had outlined for her so clearly, over a month prior, and this was in and of itself a surprise. It seemed more reasonable that all of these outlandish plans had just been a figment of her fatigue-addled imagination. And yet, here she was. This was real. things had fallen into place just as the man in the mask had assured, and yet Claire wasn't sure how much trust could be placed in him.

Claire Branigan was now en route to Luthor Mansion, clad in a new pair of scrubs. He'll be expecting you, the manager had told her over the phone. Claire would willingly admit that she wasn't sure if being expected was a good thing or a bad thing.

So instead of entertaining her doubts, because they were so numerous, she simply pulled her car into the driveway and glanced around. Her first observation was that this was not the same Luthor Mansion that was so frequently photographed in newspapers and magazines - it had fallen into disarray, and clearly had no one else working in it at the moment. Rolling her shoulders and forcing a few full breaths into her lungs, she walked up to the front door and knocked. No response.

She knocked again. No response.

She rang the doorbell.

By now, she could not help a sense of annoyance and groaned slightly before knocking again, a little harder than before, and calling out, "Mister Luthor, are you in there?"

And then, faintly, there was a sound that she could only hear because she had her ear pressed to the door - she took a step back as the footsteps drew closer and stopped. There was a brief pause, no doubt a moment of peering through the peephole to verify the identity of his visitor, before the door opened to reveal Lex Luthor - not in prison orange, but in corduroy slacks and a dark blue blazer over a t-shirt, bearing a smirk on his face as he greeted the new arrival to his home.

"Nurse Claire. Claire Branigan," he said, now seeing her new nametag on her scrubs, which bore her last name for the first time. "Well, isn't this just serendipitous? They'd told me you'd been let go from good old Metropolis State Pen - I told you, you were being far too nice to me and they'd never stand for it," he rambled rapidly before gesturing grandiosely for her to come in. "Come in, come in. Step inside my parlor."

"Said the spider to the fly," Claire muttered to herself as she followed him inside - he paused upon hearing her and cocked his head to one side, wagging his index finger in her direction.

"Clever," he said simply, grinning wolfishly at the prospect of finally having company worth toying with - company he could be reasonably entertained by. The spider to the fly indeed. "I do like them clever."

The disarray on the outside of the manor matched the inside, which, while not filthy, was slightly disheveled and a bit dustier than she would have expected. Lex stopped and followed Claire's gaze around the house and shrugged. "My staff has yet to return," he explained simply. "But I'm very sure they will. Once anyone sees they've worked for big, bad Mister Luthor, I doubt anyone else would employ them. They'll be back."

"Mm," Claire said noncommittally, breaking the extended eye contact with him and adjusting the messenger bag that carried her supplies, reaching into the bag to pull out a packet of papers. "The report from my agency says that you were discharged from Arkham with some medications, so if I could see those..."

"All business, always," Lex chuckled, cocking his head to one side and continuing to scrutinize the woman in front of him - Claire had the impression now that he simply found pleasure in being completely unnerving. Something else that did not evade her notice, however, was the slight shudder that she saw in him when she had mentioned Arkham. She had not expected his memories of the institution to be fond by any means, but this confirmed that whatever had happened in those walls had not left him unaffected. Anyone who had ever set foot in Gotham for long enough knew the name of Arkham Asylum, and, if they were of sound mind, reasonably feared it. "I keep them in the guest bathroom. Follow me," he said coolly, turning on his heel.

Claire took great care not to let it become obvious she was struggle to keep up with his steps, which were as quickly paced as his speech. Slightly winded as they reached the door to the guest suite, or rather one of many guest suites in the mansion, she followed him through the door and allowed him to line the medicine bottles up alongside the sink, from which she picked them up one by one to examine them.

"I suppose I should disclose to you that I don't plan on taking them. Any of them. Except these - I grew fond of them," he said, picking up the bottle of Ambien sleeping pills and giving them a slight shake so that the pills rattled in the orange bottle. Claire blinked a few times, realizing that this was something new. As his nurse, she knew what he'd been taking, and he'd never needed anything for sleep before. She resisted the urge to comment, instead clearing her throat and giving a force, tight-lipped grin that indicated that she had seen all she needed to see.

"I'm not ill, and I'm not crazy," Lex mentioned casually as he escorted her out of the guest suite and back to the living room area where he took a seat in one of the large armchairs and crossed his legs before gesturing for Claire to take a seat as well. "But I'm not accustomed to living on my own, and this rouse of me being insane is what keeps me out of prison, so here we are. When they offered me a nurse, I accepted. Shows compliance," he said with a sarcastic grin.

"Well," Claire said, removing her bag and putting it to the side. "You've been certified by your insurance for eight hours a day, three days a week. So right now, the most reasonable schedule is probably Monday, Wednesday, and Friday -"

"Do you have other patients?"

The question ought to have been a casual one, but because of its sharp tone, prompted Claire to look up from her packet of papers and note the suddenly uneasy, agitated expression on Lex Luthor's face which seemed to have come from nowhere. He didn't _want_ there to be other patients.

"No," she said clearly, "You're my only assignment with this agency, Mister Luthor."

"Good," he said, breathing a sigh of relief. "You understand, I'm in an incredibly vulnerable position at the moment, and the last thing I need is any potential leaking of my condition out to the public, or to other patients -"

"I respected your privacy in Metropolis State Pen, what makes you think I wouldn't do the same in your own home?" Claire couldn't help but ask. "And I think now, it's appropriate to tell you that I was offered a considerable amount of money to talk to the Daily Planet after you got shanked the first time. I could have paid my students loans twice over, and I still held your privacy in the _utmost regard_."

The interruption seemed to catch Lex off guard - he ordinarily did not take kindly to being interrupted. However, this particular interruption was one he was inclined to permit. For whatever reason or for perhaps no reason at all, he realized, _this_ woman had shown some extent of loyalty towards him. And moreover, she was the hard-headed sort who stood for no insult. In short, she would be the best kind of amusement.

"There she is," Lex finally said with a smirk, getting to his feet and slowly clapping his hands a few times. "I was waiting for your true colors to come out. I know you far, _far_ better than that. You've hardly ever been prim and professional."

"Prim, never, professional, always," Claire retorted, crossing her arms over herself - she had to admit that it was, in fact, a relief to drop the act as well. There was some level of truth in Lex's sentiment. If anything, she was more herself as a nurse in the prison than she was in other instance. Lex walked a few paces in front of her, eyeing her with a predatory glint in his gaze.

"Then as your first duty as my nurse, I'd like your help with something," he said. "Follow me."

Claire got up and fought the urge to groan at having to follow him again - did he need to walk so damn fast? This time was doubled in difficulty as he now was leading her upstairs, down the hall to the master suite. She bristled slightly as she realized where she was, though she couldn't help but admire the windows that spanned nearly an entire wall. She slowed her pace and followed at a greater distance until she ascertained where he was headed - to his own bathroom, where he produced a shaving kit and a canister of shaving cream, holding it out towards her.

"I need a little assistance. Cleaning up this situation," he said, rubbing one hand over his head after Claire had taken the supplies from his hands. "I'm hosting a gathering. A celebration of my newfound freedom," he smirked. "This Saturday - I'll expect you to attend, of course. And I'd like to keep this maintained." His hair had only grown out a small amount, nothing compared his locks prior to his incarceration, and Claire blinked incredulously.

"With all due respect," Claire began. Lex looked up at her raising an eyebrow - he knew that the phrase meant that he was about to hear something that he potentially would not want to. "Your reputation isn't exactly what it once was. What makes you think they'll come?"

"Morbid curiosity," he shrugged, though it was anything but a dismissive gesture. His movements took on an almost stalking quality as he stepped closer to Claire, hovering over her, staring down at her with an intensity that betrayed that this was more than a _dinner_ to him. "The irresistible urge to see someone who has crashed and burned, like rubberneckers on the interstate. Half of them are social comers that will come to any event with free hors d'oeuvres, and the other half will come to see just what a wreck I've become, but I'm going to show them that Lex Luthor won't be belittled. I won't be reduced to some joke. This," he said, with the look in his eye making it evident that he was speaking to himself more than to Claire, "will be my reintroduction the the Metropolis elite. This is how I will assert that I'm still Lex Luthor."

"You... are you sure you want this?" she asked, looking down at the shaving kit in her hand, then hesitantly back up at her new patient. "Why would you -"

"They did this to me. All of them," Lex said, gesturing out towards the window, with its wide, sweeping view of Metropolis. "And when I face them, I want them to see just what they've made me."

 


	4. Chapter 4

"Come early, and wear something nice. Black, if you have it. Black, if you don't have it."

Thanks to Lex Luthor's parting words to her on her first day as his nurse, Claire had been forced to actually rummage through the depths of her closet - which, to be fair, was not very deep at all - to pull out a little black dress that she hadn't worn in ages. Because, he had emphasize, every woman was supposed to have a little black dress. It was not that he had been wrong, but that he had been so presumptuous that grated poorly on Claire's nerves.

Saturday morning had been productive enough. She had just enough time to agree to a short shift at the clinic where she worked on-call when they were short-staffed. The Thomas Wayne Memorial Free Clinic never had any shortage of patients, so Claire's volunteerism there was always well-appreciated. Dr. Leslie Thompkins, the clinic's founder, knew that Claire wanted one day to open up a clinic of her own and as such had taken a liking to the girl. So, even at the end of a particularly busy weekend shift, Claire felt surprisingly upbeat as she returned home and stepped into the shower to clean up for Lex Luthor's big event.

After getting out of the shower and running a comb through her hair a few times, she realized that she hadn't opened the windows - a deadly sin in a cheap apartment. The last thing she needed right now was to be displaced by management having to get rid of mold. She wrapped herself up her short grey flannel robe and left the bathroom, walking into the living area to open the window only to find that it was already wide open. She paused, and immediately reached a conclusion of what to expect.

"Miss Branigan."

"You address me so formally for someone who just broke into my apartment."

"I see you've survived your first day with Luthor," he said. Claire turned around with expression akin to that of an annoyed teenager, her arms crossed tightly over herself.

"Yes. I did," she said shortly. "After you got me let go from my job and left me hanging for a month and a half, I did exactly what you asked of me. And now, I have to squeeze myself into a little black dress per his demand on my day off to attend -"

"A party at the manor. I'm aware," the Bat interrupted. "He's overfond of them."

"I've worked for him for one day and he thinks he's in a position to tell me how to dress," Claire said with a roll of her eyes, backing up so that she was close to the wall next to the window. "If I had a choice, I wouldn't be here of all places, so I hope you know that."

"Keep an eye on who he speaks with at this gathering," he answered, and Claire felt a mild sense of disappointment at the fact that he wasn't engaging with any of her complaints - perhaps she had expected her feedback to mean a little more, which was a fairly unreasonable expectation, she realized, of someone who was using her as a puppet to begin with. "Parties are a lot of noise. The perfect cover."

"Will do, boss man."

Normally, Claire would have been curious how Batman managed to disappear out the window and scale the wall of her building without being seen - that was the kind of thing that evaded your notice in a place like Gotham, not in Metropolis. Now, however, she simply made her way back to her room to finish getting ready.

* * *

"Mister Wayne. _Bruce Wayne_!"

Lex Luthor made a point of greeting one guest in particular with a particular loud, wide-armed gesture, waving him over to join him in the group of guests. "I'm so very glad that you made time to attend. I was worried that recent events might have... kept you away."

"Anything to support a fellow businessman," Bruce said with a disarmingly civil grin, heartily shaking Lex's free hand that wasn't holding a glass of red wine. Lex looked slightly nonplussed at the fact that Bruce Wayne didn't seem to find their action the slightest bit unsettling, but he quickly bounced back.

"Speaking of business - how is yours doing? I haven't heard a thing lately about Wayne Enterprises," Lex quipped in his best attempt to be undermining. "Nothing new? No new... projects?"

"Nothing of interest to you," Bruce said, drawing himself up to full height and tilting his head, narrowing his eyes gently as he made eye contact with Lex. "Just business as usual. Actively recruiting a few new... experts. Expanding the team, I guess you could say."

"Is that so?"

So, Lex realized, tensing slightly - he fought back against his upper lip curling into a sneer at the implication. Batman was putting together a team. Lex was well aware that he'd already found one of the metahumans that Lex had worked so hard to find. No doubt, this team would consist of even more. And here he was - Bruce Wayne, Batman - shoving his exploits into Lex's face. It was... unacceptable.

"Well, please, make yourself at home! Eat, drink and be merry, for tomorrow..."

Lex's voice trailed off, and the end of the sentence lingered in the silence, causing visible discomfort among the handful of people who had ventured to converse with him here. He could tell that they were forced only out of propriety, that this was not like before. No one cared about impressing him, he realized. They were here to be seen by others - and per his expectations, none of them truly had any concern for who was hosting the gathering or what it was for, just that it was the place to be seen by all of the right people. Lemmings. None of them were worth their weight in sand.

"Only joking, of course," Lex said with a smirk, cocking his head to one side and locking eyes with Bruce Wayne. "Did you think that I wasn't?"

Truth be told, Lex Luthor did not love these gatherings. He hated them. He hated the scrutinizing stares, the smalltalk, the eyes on him. It grated on his nerves. It made him paranoid. Now more than ever, there was a sense of being constantly watched, of being surrounded. He hated it, but it had to be done. A point had to be made. His superiority could not be forgotten by the plebeian new money of Metropolis - it simply could not be allowed.

From the corner of his eye, he saw the door open again, this time to reveal someone who had not appeared before at a Lex Luthor gathering.

Claire Branigan, he realized, cleaned up well. Clad in a little black dress with lace sleeves and an open back, her dark hair let down into loose curls, she had most definitely followed his instructions. He raised his hand and made a graceful, grandiose gesture of calling her into the midst of the group, and immediately all eyes were drawn to the attractive woman now standing next to Lex Luthor. While his father before him had made a habit of being seen regularly with lady friends at public gatherings - people were quick to forgive it as an inability to commit after the death of his wife soon after the birth of Lex Jr. - the younger Mister Luthor had never regularly been seen with anyone except for his former assistant, Mercy, who had so _tragically_ perished in the Superman Hearing Bombing. People recognized that Lex Luthor was strange, that he lacked the public graces of his father, and so, having him accompanied by a woman, having his hair shaved clean off, his suit pressed, was what Lex hoped would signal them to realize this was not the same Lex Luthor. He had returned. He had transformed.

"Perfect timing," he said with a sudden lilt to his voice as Claire arrived in their midst, glancing around sheepishly at the conversation she was coming into the middle of. "Everyone, I'd like you to meet Claire Branigan."

"Your lady friend?" one of the guests Lex had been speaking to asked. Lex turned to him and shook his index finger in the man's direction.

"My private nurse," he corrected. "Summa cum laude. Top of her class at Metropolis Polytechnical University, master's degree in biochemistry."

Claire's head turned to him questioningly, and he merely flashed her a brief smirk - of course he had done his homework on her after his release, especially after finding out she was going to be his nurse again. He made a point of being well-informed of how his staff could be optimized as assets to him.

"Looks like you got your hands on quite the gem there, Mister Luthor," Bruce piped in, taking a glass of wine from one of the passing catering waiters with trays of beverages. "Biochemistry, you said?"

"In another life," Claire corrected with a surprisingly gracious grin - it was only in this moment that Lex realized that on top of having been, he grudgingly admitted, a trustworthy nurse who had never done him wrong, she also made him look very good indeed. He allowed a smug grin to tug at his lips and, as their conversation with the small crowd continued, he rested his hand on the small of her back, casually now leaving his arm to hover around her waist, daring anyone to challenge him in doing so with his nurse.

No one would dare, he thought smugly to himself. Because he was still Lex Luthor. He still did as he damn well pleased. He allotted a small glance at the expanse of bare skin and gave a quirk of a grin at the sight of the edge of the tattoo he'd had a glimpse of before - the _Jabberwocky_. The fearsome beast seemed such an unusual choice of imagery to be emblazoned on the skin of such a delicate creature, he mused as made the tiniest of movements with his fingertip along one of the tattoo's ornate lines. For a brief moment mid-conversation, he briefly met her gaze, and though there was a glint of annoyance at the positioning of his hand, it was reserved only for him - she played the game, turning back to laugh and rub elbows as though she truly wanted to be here... as though he'd not had to practically force her to attend.

His priorities shifted, however, at the moment the clock changed to a quarter past nine - the mingling was in full swing, but Lex's eyes darted over to a man in standing by the refreshments table. He drummed his fingertips on the small of Claire's back to get her attention as she was still speaking to the group, though the gesture quickly caused her to turn her face to him.

"Claire - would you mind keeping them company for a few moments?" he asked with forced calm - and Claire knew very well when his calm was forced. "Really must make the rounds with a few other guests and a host can only be in so many places once. At the moment," he added with a chuckle, removing his hand from her back and now putting both hands in his pockets. Claire's forehead wrinkled briefly - technically, she was a guest as well - but she knew well enough that now was not the time to initiate a confrontation.

"Of course, Mister Luthor," she said with a prim and proper smile. "Your guests are in good hands."

Claire kept an eye on Lex from the corner of her eye - his interactions seemed benign enough as he moved from person to person in greeting. She noticed, however, the way his eyes consistently checked the room in one particular area where he seemed to be making a beeline towards.

"Miss Branigan?"

She flinched a bit when she realized that Bruce Wayne had addressed her directly - Mr. Wayne, moreso than Lex Luthor, gave her a sense of answering to a boss. "Mister Wayne, I'm sorry," she said with a weak chuckle. "I think I was just a little distracted."

"Of course. These parties are incredibly distracting - awful for conversation," he nodded graciously before taking a sip from his drink. "You know, it's a pleasure to finally meet you. I've heard good things about you."

"You have?" she asked, her brow knitting in confusion. "From... Mister Luthor? I've only been his nurse for a day, I doubt he'd have a _vast_ breadth of feedback yet -"

"From Doctor Thompkins," Bruce said with a brief chuckle at Claire's confused expression. "Doctor Leslie Thompkins? She has only praises to sing of her favorite volunteer at the Clinic."

"Really?" Claire asked, her attention suddenly yanked away from Lex and to this conversation with Bruce Wayne - there was a familiarity, Claire realized, as though this were not their first interaction, but she was quick to attribute it to the fact that she too had heard a great deal about him from working in the clinic he owned, named after his late father.

"Oh, absolutely. She's hoping you eventually bite the bullet and get your nurse practitioner license so you can start taking patients. Apparently, they love you," Bruce said with a quirk of his mouth on one side. "She'd like to see you as a full-fledged partner at the clinic before she retires. Doctor Thompkins would like to see the clinic left in good hands when that day comes, but I'm _hoping_ it's not coming anytime soon yet."

"My time is a little occupied lately, I'm afraid," Claire admitted, shaking her head and laughing gently. "Mister Luthor is an intelligent man, but he's certified for a nurse for a very good reason."

"Well," Bruce said, impressed by her answer, "here's hoping that he'll be back on his feet again soon." He slightly raised his glass, and Claire followed suit, gently clinking her glass of sparkling water against his glass of red wine. "Speaking of which," Bruce piped in suddenly, "we're celebrating Doctor Thompkins's twenty years of service to the clinic. I'm having a gathering as well - I've already invited Mister Luthor, and I'm sure his private nurse would be his obvious plus-one, but just in case..."

He reached into his pocket and retrieved a business card, holding it out to Claire, who accepted it in slight confusion - this was, perhaps, the most important business card she had ever received.

"If there's anything you need assistance with, or if you're ever prepared to take on a larger role with the clinic, please contact me directly," he said with smile and a nod. "I'd be happy to see what I can do."

"Of course. Thank you," Claire said, slightly breathless - and Bruce, in the corner of his mind, was relieved the see the younger woman regarding him with something rather than annoyance and disdain the way she regarded the Bat.

"I'm sure this is only a stepping stone for you, Miss Branigan," Bruce said, and Claire seemed momentarily unnerved by the fact that there was an almost apologetic quality to his voice in the statement. "I'm sure you won't be Mister Luthor's nurse forever."

"Here's hoping..."


	5. Chapter 5

"Did you enjoy yourself, Master Wayne?"

"Never do, Alfred."

Bruce loosened his tie the instant he got into the darkened back seat of the car that Alfred had arrived in for him. The older man glanced into the rearview mirror and gave a smirk at the man in the back seat, a mischievous glint in his eye.

"Then I believe this is considered mission accomplished," he supplied dryly. "And Mister Luthor?"

"The nurse is more than capable of keeping an eye on him. She can hold her own," Bruce nodded as they pulled out of the front driveway, away from the throng of cars that still remained parked, still obviously schmoozing as much as they could. "But Luthor is up to something - and I made it clear that we were up to trouble of our own. Maybe by a short stint in Arkham has taught him that some things are better not meddled in."

"Do you believe that, Master Wayne?"

"If I did," he said, reaching up and gently massaging the bridge of his nose, shaking his head tiredly, "I wouldn't be pulling innocent bystanders into the crosshairs like this. The fact of the matter is, Lex Luthor doesn't answer to us. We can't keep him in line. Only someone on the inside can, and the nurse is the closest thing we have. He's dependent on her. Very attached to her."

"And how safe do you think the girl is, being that close to someone so unstable?"

"Not safe at all," Bruce admitted. "Which is why we're keeping a close eye on her as well. We need her."

* * *

"I'm not getting paid for this, let me remind you."

Claire couldn't help her expression from growing sour when, standing alone with Lex in the middle of the large receiving room after everyone had left, they realized that the caterers had only cleaned up their own supplies, and that there was still a great deal left to be done. She had already taken off her shoes and tied her hair loosely back, realizing now that they'd need to be cleaning up the rest themselves.

"Florentino usually handled the event planning, I can't be expected to know all of the necessary minutia," Lex said, arching an eyebrow and glancing around the area. There was generally not a great deal to be done - mostly glasses and tablecloths that needed to be gathered and put away. The fact remained, however, that he hadn't had to put any planning into his own events in the past - it had always been done for him. Claire bit back the urge to ask what was taking his staff so long to return, since he was so assured that they would. Instead, she began picking up and draping tablecloths over her arm to bring down to the laundry area. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Lex moving towards the remaining empty glasses and presumably bringing them back downstairs to the kitchen, but when he returned, he was still carrying two glasses and had a bottle tucked under his arm.

"I noticed you didn't have a drink all night," he pointed out, placing the glasses down on the now bare table after Claire had removed the tablecloth. He poured a small amount of liquor into each glass - from the smell of it, butterscotch Schnapps. Claire smirked a little, having expected someone of Lex Luthor's status to have more adult taste, but simultaneously not surprised at all. He _was_ very much like a child, so the fascination with sweets and candy - even to the extent of the liquor he favored - was hardly a stretch. "What kind of a host would I be if I didn't offer? You're a guest in my home, after all."

"So now I'm a guest?" Claire asked skeptically. "After I've cleaned finished entertaining your other guests and cleaning up after them, I'm a guest -"

"Bottoms up, Miss Branigan," he interrupted, using the knuckle of his index finger to slide the glass in her direction before taking a drink himself. Claire rolled her eyes, but begrudgingly picked up the glass and took a sip as well. "I'd consider tonight a success, wouldn't you?" he asked pointedly, clearly expecting a particular answer. Claire forced a tight-lipped smile and tilted her head to one side.

"An absolute success," she nodded politely.

Lex, however, seemed displeased - his mood quickly shifted, and he put his glass down. Claire grimaced when she noticed that he had actually already downed most of it. He turned away, starting to pass back and forth across an invisible line that was only about a yard's length from point to point, scratching the back of his neck with his fingertips.

"No. No, it wasn't," he snapped, shaking his head fervently, clearly not appeased by Claire's response. "It was awful. I can tell. I can see what they think of me and it's far from what they should be thinking," he began rambling, his actions becoming more frenetic, his rubbing and scratching more agitated. "This is terrible. Terrible."

"Mister Luthor," Claire said pointedly, and he seemed suddenly stunned by the fact that she gently reached out, closing her hand around his wrist and pulling it away from his neck which was now reddened from his agitated rubbing and scratching. "You shouldn't do that."

His face twitched in an unreadable expression at the small show of concern from Claire. It was such a small gesture, and yet had yanked him out of the state of mind he had been in, into a new state of confusion. He, of course, was aware of his habits - but no one had ever thought to _stop_ him this way.

"The party was fine," Claire said in a calming voice, almost as though she were attempting to pacify a child. It was almost maternal, Lex realized, and this quality was something that he found strangely hypnotic. "I think you need some air. Come on."

Lex tensed when Claire looped an arm through his, which was now shoved into his pocket, and began guiding him upstairs to the balcony - here, unlike the atmosphere inside, the air was cooler and less suffocating. It didn't give the feeling of things closing in around him.

The nurse, he grudgingly admitted internally, probably knew what she was doing.

Lex walked out onto the balcony and took in a deep breath, walking towards the railing and leaning his forearms onto it, staring out once again at Metropolis. His father had specifically built this home this way in this location, because from nearly every angle, it overlooked Metropolis. He was convinced he would own the city that looked as though it lay at his feet - and through the harshest coercion, by brute force, Lex Luthor Senior had made sure that his son would inherit that conviction.

"It's a long, long way down," Lex said in a near mumble, looking over the edge to the gardens below. "A long fall from Paradise. I know what they think of me, you know," he added to Claire, though he didn't look back over the shoulder at her. "I could see it. Hear it. I was right about all of them and their pretensions - they came here to gloat that they're all still as rich and gluttonous as ever while I'm... while I'm..."

"Mister Luthor?"

Lex moved suddenly, so he was standing up on the flat top of the ornate railing along the balcony's edge, and Claire felt her heart skip a beat as he positioned himself with his arms out wide, casting his jacket back on the balcony behind him. "Couldn't you just imagine being a fly on the wall of your own funeral?" he chuckled darkly to himself, looking out over the city. "Hearing the things they say about you once they think you can't hear them? That's when people are honest. That's the only time - when they have nothing to lose anymore."

"Lex."

The use of his first name was rare nowadays, and was enough to get his attention - but as he turned his head back to respond, his footing wavered and he found his balance starting to falter. As he began swaying, attempting to regain balance but at the sometime wondering what it would be like to simply let himself fall, he saw from the corner of his eye that Claire had immediately lunged forward, grabbing a hold of one of his hands and pulling him back onto the balcony - they both landed on the floor with a slight thud, and Claire grimaced at having landed awkwardly on her shoulder, rolling off of it with a pained expression.

"What the hell was that?" she said, her voice suddenly shrill and a little bit breathless as she used her other hand to give Lex's shoulder a slight shove. "What do you think you're doing?"

"Morbid curiosity," he supplied vaguely, his voice blank as he regarded Claire's expression - it looked frantic, enraged. Scared. One side of his mouth quirked into a disbelieving smirk at the fact that he was able to elicit such a reaction from her. "You were worried," he said with a chuckle to himself. "You care about me."

"I care about my job," Claire said, quickly getting to her feet and dusting herself off with a huff of exasperation. "Don't start getting ideas."

"I _am_ your job. Therefore, you care about me. Still a compliment," Lex said, suddenly now appearing calm and even amused, not the unstable and morbid tumult of moments earlier. It pleased him, knowing that he had that kind of influence on her, whatever the reasons were. Claire pursed her lips gently and took a few breaths through her nose, shaking her head slowly.

"Let's go back inside," she said in that tone of forced propriety that Lex Luthor was in fact very familiar with - he'd grown acquainted with it in Metropolis State, as it was her response of choice when he got himself in over his head with the other inmates. It meant that she was tactfully declining to express how infuriated she was, how exasperated, how exhausted - and the fact that she felt those things was amusement enough. He got to his feet behind her and took oddly jumpy steps - almost as though he was skipping - all the way to his room. "You've had a long day," Claire supplied. "You need rest."

"My sleeping pills are downstairs."

"You're not taking them tonight," Claire said sternly - and in an unusual show of assertiveness and strength, she shut the door behind her and stood in front of it. "You've had a few drinks, and as your nurse -"

"You're off duty."

"Then as... as a decent human being who isn't a piece of shit, I can't let you take them."

And again, quickly as before, Lex's countenance shifted - his expression twisted again into a near-scowl and his eyes narrowed in Claire's direction as though thinking that somehow, he would manage to intimidate her into changing her mind. He only ceased this tactic when he remembered that she'd held her ground against much bigger, much more physically superior inmates before him.

"I won't be sleeping tonight, then."

The statement was made under his breath, but because the room itself was quiet, Claire was able to make it out fine. Her stance relaxed so that inside of being cross-armed, she had one hand resting on her hip, taking a couple of steps forward to where Lex had sit down at the foot of the bed.

"Why can't you sleep?"

"Because I don't need to."

"You don't need to or you don't want to?"

Lex's hands clenched at his sides - again with that tone of voice. He wasn't even sure why he thought of it as maternal. He wouldn't have known what maternal sounded like to begin with. But that sense of knowing and not saying, of worrying but not showing, was the closest he could imagine to it. He found it comforting, but that sense of comfort was in and of itself unsettling. He had never known the care of a mother - only that he had been sorely deprived of it and left instead with a drunk megalomaniac of a father. His mother must have been wonderful, he had always thought as a young boy, if his father resented him so much for the loss of her. His boyhood had been torture from which he had never been delivered, and it seemed that adulthood would be the same.

"Have you forgotten where I've been, Claire?" he said, his voice tight, his gaze cast down to his clenched fists. "Have you forgotten the way people screamed at night? The way the wind rattled the barred windows, the way there was always the jingling of keys and the sound of footsteps that you never knew where they were coming from? Did you forget, that was my life? I've _seen_ things. I've _heard_ things."

And then, in his line of vision, he saw her face again - she had slowly approached and was now crouched next to where he sat on the bed, her face soft and concerned. "I know," she said gently, her voice void of judgment or sarcasm. "But that isn't your life here. Nothing is going to happen to you."

This nurturing was an unnatural, surreal experience - Lex stared down in almost child-like confusion when Claire gently grasped both of his hands and coaxed him to unclench his fists. It was such a simple gesture, one that took very little effort to read, but at the same time, the frankness of it left him in a state of vulnerability that he simply could not accept.

"I understand completely, Claire," he said with a forced, almost sickly-looking chuckle. He could think of no other way to respond to her treatment of him. Why, he thought with great tumult, was she intervening this way? "You don't want me overdosing on your watch, going out in rockstar fashion, facedown in bed. Certainly not something you'd note on your resume."

"Whatever helps you sleep at night, Mister Luthor," she replied with a smirk.

"It'll help if you stayed until I fell asleep. Chased away the boogeymen," he said, testing the waters - people did not stay when they had nothing to gain, and eventually, he would bring it out in her. He took pleasure in forcing people to show their very worst selves, because it proved him right in his assessment of the very nature of people. "Pull up a chair."

"Fine."

And as directed, she moved into an armchair close to the bed, gently drawing her legs up underneath her and cocking her head to the side, looking at Lex. He clearly had not expected her to agree, and in order to save face, he kicked off his shoes and laid on his bed on top of the covers, half expecting her to leave. She did not. He shut his eyes, his ears tuned to hear if she walked away and was untrue to her word. But, all the way up until he finally succumbed to sleep, he didn't hear her budge the slightest from the chair.

Claire had waited until Lex Luthor was undeniably asleep before she slowly got out of the seat to leave - after spending so many nights as his nurse in the infirmary, she was strangely proud of her ability to identify a real snore from the man. She started towards the door, but paused and turned back, jotting something down quickly on a gum wrapper on the bedside table before leaving.

Her personal cell phone number, with the words _just in case_ scrawled along the bottom.

The first day she had come to work as his nurse, she had made a point to specify that if there was anything that he needed during her off days, he should call the agency rather than trying to reach her. But something about seeing him this way - seeing that there was a strange desperation to him, lurking just underneath the lunacy that everyone was so familiar with - had stirred up enough concern in her to break protocol in this instance. In any case, she'd likely respond faster personally than the agency would

That, she mused to herself as she got into her car and made her way back downtown to her apartment, was justification enough, wasn't it? She was concerned. For a _patient_.

She finally returned home to her apartment - a dingy, sad hole of a place compared to Luthor Mansion, but home nonetheless - and glanced around the room, half-expecting and preparing for another interrogation, only to find that this time, she had come home to an empty apartment and was in fact alone. She sighed in relief as she trudged towards her own twin-bed, slumping tiredly onto it and curling up on her side without bothering to get dressed. No Lex Luthor. No Batman.

"Thank God," she murmured to herself as she allowed herself to fall quickly asleep.


	6. Chapter 6

"We're fine, Claire - you've been a huge help today. Go home and get some rest."

Shifts at the Wayne Memorial Clinic seemed frequently to end with these very same words from Doctor Leslie Thompkins. Claire found that her time with the patients at the clinic hardly felt like work at all, which was why she was so quick pick up whatever shifts they needed from her.

On this day, the work of charting and reconciling paperwork at the office happened to take longer than usual, so when Dr. Thompkins did happen to give Claire her usual prompting to go home, it was already dark outside. She made it to her car without incident and started out of Gotham city, back towards home.

Claire couldn't have said whether it was reflex of intention which sent her along a particular route back home that wound past Luthor Mansion, but she was at least willing to admit that since she was here, she felt some level of concern - some inclination to check up on Lex Luthor, even if she wasn't assigned to be back on duty until the next day. She parked her car a short way away from the front driveway, hoping to briefly glimpse Lex without giving him a chance to try and compose himself - he was so very skilled, she noted, at putting up a front. Admittedly, she was concerned about how he was really doing, and as such she succumbed to her curiosity enough to check on him, just for a brief moment.

However, when she arrived at the front gate, she saw that it was already open, and through the large window to the main foyer, she saw him coming down the main staircase from the den, with another man following. Gulping in a large breath, Claire slinked towards the fountain in the front drive, crouching behind it. Thankfully, in scrubs, this was manageable enough of a feat. Claire very intentionally held her breath so she would be able to listen, holding her hand over her diaphragm as though it would help her keep quiet.

"Perfect. Perfect. Keep me posted when you have any details on the shipment, Mister Lubrano - Jolly Rancher?" The telltale rustling of the candy wrapper caused an involuntary roll of Claire's eyes. She'd learned quickly of his fondness for hard candies - perhaps even more an obsession than a fondness. "There's are reason that you're my favorite antiques dealer," Lex added with a shrill staccato of a laugh.

Antiques dealer? Claire attempted to adjust to an angle where she could get a better view, but was unable to see the man's face. Instead, she was relegated to having listening intently until she heard this man - Lubrano - departing. Lex remained outside, watching the man leave, and it wasn't until he too had retreated inside that Claire had an opening to get away.

While it didn't surprise her in the least, Claire felt a queasiness in realizing that Lex was up to something in her absence. There was an indignation at the fact that she was supposed to be putting effort into keeping him stable, and here he was, doing nothing different than he had done before Metropolis State Pen.

And beneath indignation, there was worry - because Lex Luthor was not the same as he was before the Pen. He was more unstable, more off-kilter. Claire managed a nearly silent getaway back to her car, heading back towards home.

* * *

Bruce Wayne had already been poring for hours over the files, deep in the depths of the data he had retrieved from Lex Luthor in months prior. There had to have been some backdoor to more information - there was so little on the metahumans with whom Lex Luthor had developed such an obsession, it hardly made sense. Grainy surveillance footage and a string of aliases and ATM transactions. None if was making this process any easier, and he knew of no way to ascertain how much time they even had.

He's coming. The bell has been rung.

Bruce was unsure whether to take Lex's words from months prior as the ranting of a desperate lunatic grasping at straws to get a rise from him, or as a legitimate threat. Who was he? How would he have been any worse than this Doomsday, who had already brought such havoc to not one but two cities?

"Bruce..."

Bruce looked up from his computer at the sound of a woman's voice - he had taken to keeping Miss Prince around more, as he grudgingly admitted that perhaps she was more equipped to understand, even to face the worst of things he could imagine coming their way. "Obsessing over this will not prepare you, Mister Wayne. It won't prepare any of us," she pointed out. "What's destined to come is destined to come. I don't believe that any amount of staring at the same files over and over again will change that."

"How do you know what's destined?' Bruce asked. "I told you what I saw - that metahuman from the convenience store. The fast one. That nightmare. What if those things were a destiny that we changed?"

"And how do you propose we find out?" Diana asked, her brow furrowing. "Your efforts are admirable - and futile, Bruce," she chided. "We can do nothing except prepare. We can find the others on our own, we don't need to endanger the lives of those who are less strong in order to -"

"That's the problem with you," Bruce said, getting to his feet and gesturing rigidly with his sinewy arms. Diana bristled, able to tell immediately that by 'you', he didn't mean her as an individual but her as a metahuman, as one of 'them'. "You think that people are less strong. People can withstand more than you give us credit for - people are capable of rising above terrible things -"

"And I never said you were not," Diana interrupted, her expression sharpening. "And if you and I are going to work together, you're going to have to trust me. As a person, not a... a metahuman," she said, her tongue nearly stumbling over the word that she herself had never branded herself with. "How can we be allies when we don't trust each other? I have already fought by your side. I have given you every reason to trust me, and still you refuse."

"I do trust you," Bruce said sternly. "But -"

"Conditional trust is no trust at all," Diana continued to interrupt in disdain. "I brought Arthur to you. I have done everything you have asked of me - and I can bear that burden, Bruce. But instead, you continue to put the burden on the shoulders of a woman who has no place carrying it."

"If you're still having misgivings about the nurse -"

"The nurse has a name, as do I," Diana said with stern finality. "Why do you insist on working alone?"

"Because fewer people get hurt this way," Bruce said vaguely, though the shift in his tone to something more melancholy, more introspective. Diana, however, stepped forward and sighed, reaching out to give his shoulder a slight squeeze.

"If you and I are going to be partners, if we are going to find more of us, then you must get used to this," she said with slight upward quirk of one side of her lips. Bruce's eyebrows raised slightly at the mention of more of us, including him. At this, Diana gave a slightly more triumphant grin. He still seemed unconvinced, but Diana Prince was never one to refuse a challenge. "You'll learn, Bruce. Little boys are stubborn, but they learn."

* * *

Lois Lane was unsure of why she even kept this same apartment anymore. It was too big, and she could barely afford it anymore - she could just have easily fit all of her things in a studio apartment and had more to spare at the end of the month. But the fact of the matter was that she couldn't bear to leave it, even months after Clark's death. It was their safe haven, and even with him gone, it was still the only place she felt safe.

She flinched at the sound of a knock on her apartment door, and practically had to feel herself off of the couch, feeling her stagnant joints cracking and popping slightly from the slight movement as she walked across the living room.

"You in there, Lois?"

"Perry?"

Lois's expression turned to one of surprise and confusion when she opened the door to see her boss standing sternly with his arms crossed, not even greeting her as he eyed her over. She was a mess. her usually kempt hair was tied back sloppily, her clothes were wrinkled, and her skin looked nearly grey from having been cooped up in here for most of the past few months.

"Come back to work," Perry said with an exasperated sigh. "Your stuff is great. Always is. But you writing editorials from home isn't gonna fly forever, Lois."

Perry immediately regretted his bluntness, even if he wouldn't outardly show it, when he saw Lois visibly stiffen at his demand of her. She cleared her throat and took a step back, nodding towards the inside of her apartment. "Come on in, Perry," she said, her voice small and defeated. And if there was one thing that Perry knew Lois Lane never to be, it was defeated. He took a seat on her sofa and let her process as she needed to, scuttling over to the kitchen and pouring him a mug of coffee. It wasn't until she had brought two mugs of coffee over and placed them down on the coffee table that she noticed she had reflexively chosen the mugs she and Clark used to use when he was around for morning coffee. Her eyes fixated on them for a moment, and she drew in a deep breath, fighting back tears as she picked up her own mug and walked over to the window.

"You can mourn forever, Lois, but not like this," Perry said, not getting up - making eye contact or standing too closely to her right now wouldn't feel right. It wouldn't be natural. It wasn't in his nature to be nurturing - but he couldn't very well let one of his star reporters go down this road without doing anything. "There's a point where you have to come back to the life that you still have, Lois."

"I know you're right," Lois replied in a choked voice, staring out the window and holding her own cup of coffee. "I know, Perry. And I keep meaning to get up in the morning and just start showing up again. Just start living again. But then I do get up, and I don't feel any different. I don't feel any better," she said, shaking her head. "So I keep thinking, maybe tomorrow, I'll be able to walk out that door and just live my life again. And it never happens."

"The Lois Lane I've known - the Lois Lane who's been a pain in my ass since she started working for the Daily Planet - never just waited for things to happen," Perry pointed out, taking a swig from the coffee in his mug. "I know. I know it'll never be the same without Clark."

"How can you possibly -"

"I took losing Jimmy hard, Lo," he said in a lowered tone. "Jimmy _and_ Clark."

At this, Lois froze and turned around, looking at Perry with wide eyes and hearing him inhale a long, shuddering breath, shaking his head. She moved back around to the sofa and sat down next to him, staring on in confusion.

"My staff is sometimes more of my family than my actual family," he admitted, his voice slightly snide. "God knows I see enough of you every day. I know your face and Jimmy's face and Clark's face better than I probably know my kids' faces by now. So don't think that I don't take that hit when something happens to one of you."

"Perry..."

"No - nope. This is not a pity party, Lane," Perry said, pulling himself together again and shaking his head, locking eyes with the younger woman meaningfully. "This is me telling you that your life isn't going to start again - your world isn't going to start turning again until you make it. And if anyone's stubborn enough to make a still world start spinning, it's Lois Lane."

First, Lois was a little taken off guard, a little derailed by Perry's sudden, surprisingly emotional tirade, but in response, Lois gave a tearful smile and leaning forward, enveloping her boss in a hug that she perhaps needed more than she did. Perry cleared his throat and patted her on the back stiffly.

"Alright, Lane, that's enough - I'm already short-staffed, I don't need a sexual harassment suit on my plate too," he said with a forced chuckle before pulling back. "I'll see you in the office tomorrow at eight a.m. for you next assignment. Are we good?"

"Yeah," Lois said slowly as the pair of them both got to their feet. "Yeah, we're good, Perry."


	7. Chapter 7

Progress. To any business, progress was always the goal - yet now, however, it was a word that Lex Luthor felt oddly dismayed to hear.

Part of his discharge to the community included a very strict treatment regimen which included weekly visits with a psychiatrist at an outpatient clinic contracted with Arkham Asylum to monitor his stability. After a short while seeing the shrink, Lex had grown confident in his ability to play the game with him, until now. He had, admittedly, found the presence of a personal nurse to be a considerable help in the past six weeks since Claire Branigan arrived at his doorstep, especially given the fact that the rest of his hired help had failed to return as planned. She had, though Lex would be hard-pressed to say so in so many words, come to be indispensable.

Doctor Cavendish, Arkham's illustrious director, had taken on personally seeing Lex Luthor on an outpatient basis because no one else could be counted on to shoulder such potential liability. He left the room briefly to take a personal phonecall - but had negligently left his clipboard in the room with Lex, who could simply not help getting up from his seat to peer over at the notes on the paper.

_Mr. Luthor appears to be stabilizing and making considerable progress. May soon return to fully independent functioning with no requirement of in-home services. Recommendation to reduce services over the next four weeks._

His lip curled slightly into a sneer as he shuffled back over to his seat, crossing his legs and resting his arms on the armrests of his chair. Stabilizing. Progress. All of these things were meant to be positive, but he held others' ideas of what was positive in incredibly low regard. He saw the basis for the assessment, granted - he had slowly begun coming more frequently in person to LexCorp headquarters rather than by videoconference, and was for all intents and purposes slowly entering back into what could be considered a normal life. Normal for Lex Luthor, anyway.

This was not positive in the least. On the contrary, it meant more than one very negative thing. First, it meant there was a growing risk that he would get to a point where he would be again held accountable for things he had done, and being held accountable meant a lot of things that Lex did not even want to begin to consider. Second, it meant that he would no longer need help - and therefore, no longer need a nurse. That, for whatever reason, seemed an equally regrettable possibility.

And both of these things were possibilities Lex Luthor was committed to preventing. He was well-read enough to know precisely what needed to be heard and documented in order to maintain his case. It wouldn't be... too much of a stretch. he would always bee seen as crazy. Psychotic seemed to be the label of choice, whether he acquiesced to it or not. If there was nothing he could do to change their opinions, he would give them precisely what they wanted. After all, he only bothered pushing back against those whom he considered powerful - he only bothered refuting those whose opinions _mattered_.

"Doctor!" he said brightly when the psychiatrist reentered. Lex drummed his fingers restlessly on the table next to his chair, bounced his leg in his chair. "I thought you weren't coming back. Thought you'd forgotten about me -"

"My apologies, Mister Luthor," Doctor Cavendish said. "I was just answering a personal phonecall - urgent. My son went home sick from school today -"

"You were talking about me, weren't you?" Lex asked with an eery grin, leaning forward and cocking his head to one side. "Of course you were. I heard you. I heard you through the door."

"Mister Luthor, I wasn't talking about you outside. You don't need to worry -"

"I'm not worrying, I'm telling you, I heard you!" Lex said, flinging his arms out wide, then beaming again and adding in a sing-song sort off voice, "I know you're keeping secrets, Doctor! I know! You want me back in Arkham, don't you? Do you get an extra holiday bonus for it? An extra turkey and a heaping bowl of stuffing for the little ones if you get big bad Mister Luthor back in a straightjacket?"

"Mister Luthor, listen to me," Doctor Cavendish insisted. "I wasn't talking about you -"

"You were," Lex insisted, shutting his eyes briefly and shaking his head, holding up an index finger to interrupt. "Doctor. Let's not be surreptitious here, I heard you talking about me outside with all of them."

"Mister Luthor," Doctor Cavendish interrupted, clearly perturbed by the accusation at having been talking about his most prolific patient outside in an empty lobby, and even more disturbed by the fact that Lex looked actually pleased, convinced of the veracity of his own words. Cavendish was in fact perhaps so thrown that he did not even think to take Lex's sudden shift in behavior beyond face value, and Lex's elation at having convinced someone trained and so thoroughly educated translated into an even more convincing facade of true mania. Perhaps, some small part of it was not even a facade at all. "I think your session is over for today. I'm afraid you may have found this one a little overwhelming. I'll see you again at our next meeting?"

"Of course, of course," Lex chirped, never breaking eye contact with Doctor Cavendish while getting to his feet and striding towards the door out of the office. Cavendish, however, broke the eye contact first and began scrawling notes down on his clipboard. Lex felt a thrill at the sound of pen scratching over paper, crossing out the previous notes he had jotted down. "But don't think I'll have forgotten! I never forget."

And as he left the clinic and strode out to his car outside, Lex grinned smugly at his victory. he had come so close to losing it all yet again, but this time, he had learned. He had beaten his circumstances, and managed to retain his _innocence_ and his nurse - who at the moment was his only ally. Claire would be rather pleased to know it, he decided. It was job security.

Now, however, he had bigger fish to fry. Since Claire would not be around to hear the good news until tomorrow, there was work to be done and only one worthy of doing it. It had been a good while since Lex had touched some of the furthest recessed of the data he and his team had gone to such pains to collect, but this close call had reawakened his enthusiasm for his former research. There were a handful of supplemental files that he had not housed in the main servers due to their lack of completeness, but now, they would be of potential use. He knew now that Bruce Wayne knew things that he was not intended to know, but could not know everything.

"No," Lex muttered to himself with a smirk, his face illuminated by the light of the computer screen. "There are many things you don't know, Mister Wayne."

If the Bat of Gotham was expanding his team, Lex Luthor was happy to do the same.

"Eeny, meeny, miney..." Lex chirped to himself as he began scrolling his cursor over the list of raw filenames with a girn in his face. "Mo."

He finally settled on one file in particular, completely luck of the draw. He hummed discordantly as he opened the folder, waiting as the bundle of files loaded to reveal a photograph of a man, a set of coordinates to a location in Cape Verde. Almost cackling in glee, he nearly dropped his phone as he fished it out of his pocket to make a call to a very important friend. "Hello, hello, Mister Lubrano! Lex Luthor here - change of plans," he said with a jovial lilt. "I have some merchandise that I'll need you to have delivered to me from Cape Verde. Fragile goods. I'm willing to pay extra insurance for its safe delivery."

* * *

"Mister Luthor, do you care to explain this?"

Claire appeared highly skeptical, even displeased when she arrived for duty the next day, holding an envelope from the nursing agency she worked for, packaged in an overnight bubble mailer. Lex chuckled a little at the fact that whatever it was, was urgent.

"I don't need to look at it," he said jovially, his eyebrows giving a playful quirk. "It's about my incident at the psychiatrist's office, isn't it? Word does travel fast. Wonders of the internet, welcome to the future - "

"It says I'm suposed to work out with you as many hours as you need, not to exceed sixty hours per week," Claire said, yanking the letter out of the envelope and following Lex inside the house. "Sixty hours," she repeated. "Mister Luthor, I frankly don't have sixty hours a week to spend with you. Why does it say that you have - what is this? An urgent need for more intensive services?"

"Well, the voices, Claire, of course."

'The..." Claire's voice trailed off, and Lex took a moment to observe her expression - he was surprised to see that the first look to flicker across her features was not one of annoyance, but of worry. The night after the party briefly returned to his mind, though it had never been spoken of again between the two of them since. She was worried, he realized with smirk. Within seconds though, her worry turned into a look of exasperation, and she spoke through a slightly clenched jaw in a clear attempt not to lose her temper. "You don't hear voices, Mister Luthor."

"No. I don't - I do like them clever!" he chirped, reaching out and gently tapping the tip of his index finger on her forehead - he'd found early on that she was relatively unfazed by these small encroachments on her personal space, and so had grown fond over the past month of pushing her boundaries little by little. "But if I didn't say I heard those voices, then soon I wouldn't be hearing your dulcet tones echoing through my halls anymore, and you my dear would be out of work. As the head of LexCorp, I would much rather be a job creator than a job destroyer. Can you imagine the PR implications?"

Claire's evident conflict played out on her face, which seemed unable to decide on an expression or an emotion. First was suprise, even affront at the fact that Lex was faking and expecting her to play along, second was doubt - because in order to remain in compliance with the directions from the Bat, she had to play along. And finally, though fleeting, was a sense of flattery that a small part of the reason for it was to keep her as a nurse.

"Well. This has been lovely. Just lovely. But I do have plans for the day," Lex chimed in, interrupting her thoughts. "Important ones that require your presence. Come, come."

He gestured for her to follow before making an overdramatic sweeping gesture, striding down the hallway to the guest suite and throwing open the closet to reveal that it was about half-full of clothes.

"I've found," Lex began, making a wagging gesture with his index finger, "that having someone in awful hospital scrubs following you around everywhere - even someone as cherubic as you, Nurse Claire - is extremely stigmatizing. So, I've taken the liberty of providing you with some new work attire."

"Those look like cocktail dresses."

"Po-tay-to, po-tah-to."

Lex crossed his arms and again mused over her reaction, and felt inclined to see if he could push it even just a little more, reaching out and plucking a particular hanger out of the closet and holding it out in her direction. Claire's head tilted to one side at the sight of the dark red sheath dress - nothing lascivious, but definitely not scrubs. She took the hanger from Lex's hand and held it up, glancing it over with a skeptical quirk of her eyebrow.

"I daresay I've gotten your size correct. I'm something of a whiz at guesstimation," he chuckled to himself. "I'll give you a moment to get dressed. Main driveway in ten!"

And without giving her a chance to refuse, Lex whirled out of the guest suite, shutting the door behind him.

Claire's expression while she took her long hair out of its ponytail and slipped into the red dress was one of mild annoyance, but she had committed to playing along with this, to whatever end. It was just a job, she reminded herself. It was just a job.

She would be even harder pressed to do so, however, when she arrived outside and found that Lex Luthor had pulled up not in his car, but on his motorcycle. Her jaw clenched as he held a helmet out in her direction.

"I find it more therapeutic than the car - also more gas economic. LexCorp is _committed_ to preserving Mother Earth, after all," he said with a roguish smirk. "Hop on, I have a reservation that we really shouldn't miss."

Just a job, she reminded herself as she fastened the helmet onto her head, carefully leaving her hair twisted up inside. She got onto the back of the bike and flinched when the engine gave a loud roar.

"Hold on tight, Nurse Claire," Lex chuckled - and by the amused tone in his voice, which was audible even from underneath his helmet, he had no intention of being a safe driver. Left without a choice, Claire held tightly around Lex's midsection from behind as they zoomed through the streets of Metropolis, making no efforts to stay off of the busiest roads or to remain discreet.

It was probably a blessing that Claire hadn't had time for breakfast this morning, she thought as they finally pulled up in front of La Parisienne, a well-liked cafe in uptown Metropolis, because the ride had left her feeling a little queasy. She seemed thirsty for air when she finally was able to dismount from Lex's bike and remove the helmet.

"Not so bad, was it?" he asked, reaching out to assist her in unbuckling the helmet and placing back with the bike before, without warning, reaching out and gently grabbing her arm, looping it through his. She stared at him questioningly and would have opened her mouth to speak if she hadn't seen his eyes dart to a spot somewhere across the street, Her gaze briefly followed and landed on a man who appeared to be discreetly trying to take a photo or video with his phone. Paparazzi.

This was about being seen. Claire fought the urge to roll her eyes, knowing that embarrassing Lex Luthor now would undermine all of the work she had already done. For multiple reasons, perhaps, she did not consider that an option. So, she played along and kept her arm loosely linked with his as they were shown inside to a table by the maitre'd'.

She did not appear amused the entire time, however, and Lex internally grew wary of the possibility of another bad headline - it would be minor, of course, and he had been called far worse things is recent months than a bad date, but yet another affront to his reputation was something he simply could not afford.

"Give 'em a smile for me, wouldja?" he muttered, beaming falsely, not knowing what angles the cameras might be shooting from. The fake, halfhearted attempt at a grin that he received from Claire when she looked up from her menu, however, was clearly not what he had been hoping for. Quickly, he leaned slightly across the table towards Claire and ran his finger around the rim of her glass of ice water with lemon, and beamed as he began reciting something he knew would get a reaction from her one way or another. " _You are old, Father William, the young man said - and your hair has become very white. And yet you incessantly stand on your head. Do you think at your age, that is right?_ "

Claire's eyes widened slightly in recognition - Lewis Carroll. While she never lost sight of the fact that Lex Luthor was a brilliantly intelligent man with an excellent memory, she had for whatever reason never expected him to remember something that was particularly of interest to her so quickly. " _In my youth, Father William replied to his son, I feared it might injure the brain. But now that I'm perfectly sure I have none, why, I do it again and again!_ "

And she laughed - truly laughed - as Lex managed word for word to spout out the rest of the poem, even as their food was brought out to them and the waiters brought by a pair of mimosas to accompany their meal. "There she is," Lex said with a strangely placid, lopsided grin as he reached out and gave Claire's hand a squeeze. The action caused a small bit of the amusement to fade from her eyes and she stopped laughing for the moment, but regathered her composure, realizing that all of this was for the cameras.

It was unprofessional, and if she was seen this way with any other patient, she would have lost her job. But this was Lex Luthor, and still, he made his own rules that others were expected to follow.

It came as no surprise that Lex Luthor was interesting and engaging - Claire had spent enough time with him over the past month to know that despite his abundant eccentricities, he was anything but a boring conversationalist. There were even brief, fleeting moments where the line between the show for paparazzi and actual enjoyment of their conversation on both sides seemed to blur.

This was put on pause, however, when Lex suddenly seemed distracted - he glanced at the time, then at his surroundings with rapid movements of his eyes. Immediately, Claire's brain seemed to switch gears at well because she knew well enough this meant that something was worrying him. Reflexively, she gently leaned over and meant to ask him if anything was wrong, before he held up his hand and got to his feet, putting on a false smile.

"Excuse me for a moment. Restroom," he said with a shrug, walking towards the back of the restaurant, leaving Claire confused at their table. She blinked a few times and took a sip from her mimosa. Something was off, she realized, and in that moment she reminded that she wasn't hired to be good company. She was hired to look out for his best interests, and in this instance, that meant going after him. Folding her napkin and placing it on the table, she got to her feet as well and followed the same beeline to the back of the restaurant where the restrooms were located. When she reached the narrow back hallway just past the kitchens, however, she realized that the door to the back alley was ajar - and that people were situated just outside the door, talking.

"Well?"

"The shipment will take a few weeks," a man spoke up. Claire peered around as unobtrusively as she could and realized that this was Lubrano, the man who she had once seen at Luthor Mansion meeting with Lex. "But things are going just as planned, Mister Luthor. The particular piece you're interested in shouldn't be difficult to track down."

"Perfect. Perfect!" Lex said, clapping his hands together. "There's a reason why you're my favorite antiques dealer, Mister Lubrano. So very efficient. I do like them efficient."

Claire fought back a wave of queasiness at hearing this exchange - not only was she a publicity stunt. She was now a cover for whatever Lex was doing. She was complicit in all of it, just like she had become complicit in spying on him.

She had become so distraught at the thought of all of these things that she didn't think to get out of the way. So, when Lex pushed the door open and returned to the back hallway of the restaurant, she was still standing in the same spot, dumbfounded. For a moment, they locked eyes - her brown eyes filled with disbelieving disdain, and his green eyes glinting with the sudden, instinctive sharpness of a fighting animal backed into a corner. He'd done it now, he realized. All of that saintly concern, that sweet, doe-eyed kindness and maternal nurturing - he'd wondered when he'd be able to break it. Surely now, he had. Surely now, he'd found the test she couldn't pass. With an expression halfway between a sneer and a smirk, he wordlessly tried to sweep past her, back into the restaurant.

"Mister Luthor," Claire said in a conspiratorial whisper, garnering no reaction. "Lex."

And again, uncontrollably, the use of his first name caused him to turn and look at her with an irked eyebrow. "So that's what this all was?" she asked, keeping her voice low. "A cover for your antiques business?" she spat, emphasizing that she didn't believe for a moment that it was antiques Lex Luthor was trying to import. "Lex, answer -"

"Careful," he said, his voice suddenly both charming and dangerous as he gently took the crook of her arm, pulling her close to him just abruptly enough so that she stumbled slightly, having to brace herself against his chest. He smirked at the closeness and the contact and pushed it one step further, gently using the side of his finger to tip her chin up to look him in the eye. The any onlooker, it was a romantic, sensual embrace, and even Claire had to admit to a strange quality in their physical proximity - but she knew better. "Don't. Cause. A. Scene."

The last four words were whispered, leaning close to her face, looking very directly into her eyes and finally closed off with a lingering brush of his lips on her forehead before he released his hold on her arm, allowing her to straighten up and regain her composure. Now, she was struck silent by the brief exchange, and Lex smirked, shoving his hands into his pockets. "Very good," he said in a low whisper. "Now we're going to finish our brunch and go back to the bike, and we're going to go home. Is that clear?"

Claire paused, her eyes perusing Lex's expression and his posture - he was amused by this. He thought he had every right, and suddenly, Claire felt an uncharacteristic sense of anger rising from the pit of her stomach. Ever since the night after the party, since his fears and vulnerabilities were laid so raw before her, she had given him the benefit of the doubt. He needed to be cared for, she reminded herself. He needed to have someone he could rely on. But, Claire realized as she looked down at the way she was dressed, as looked around at where she was, she was down the rabbit hole now.

"As crystal, Mister Luthor," she said coolly. But Lex wasn't so much interested in the calmness of her voice as he was the coldness in her eyes - he had done it. He had done away with that warmth he had seen in her the night of the party, and in doing so, proven himself correct about the nature of people. Goodness was weak. Goodness could be exhausted, and always would be in the end.


	8. Chapter 8

"His name was Lubrano," Claire explained with her arms crossed tightly over herself as she managed this time to look the Bat in the eye when he appeared in her apartment - in characteristic Batman fashion, wind whistling through the open window, lurking in the corner as she walked through the door. Her exposure to men in capes was limited, but she had always expected that their entrances would be a little more valiant, a little less kidnapper-creeper. Things, it turned out, could never be counted on to turn out as you expected them to. Perhaps it had been the events of the day, and her intense exasperation with Lex Luthor at this very moment after having been used as a publicity stunt, but her protectiveness of him appeared to have, for the moment, waned. "Tan, had an accent, sounded like he was responsible for delivering something. Something about a shipment of antiques. That's all I know."

"And you said you've seen this man talking with Luthor before?"

"Once," Claire supplied, rolling her shoulders tiredly and walking over to pour herself a glass of water. She reflexively pulled another glass from the cupboard and poured water into it, before looking back at Batman with an arched eyebrow. "Probably useless to offer you a drink while you've got that thing on, huh?"

"When did you see him the first time?"

"I drove by the mansion on my way home from Gotham once," Claire supplied, bringing her own glass back over and resuming her stance in front of the Bat, taking a swig from her glass to wet her throat. All business, she thought with a brief click of her tongue that he seeimgnly ignored. By now, he had learned her tricks - that she reverted to snark and humor when she was nervous, or stalling. "He said Lubrano was his favorite antiques dealer."

"What kind of antiques?"

"I don't know, old ones?" Claire asked, her brow furrowing at the expectation that she was supposed to be good at spying. Claire made no pretense of being dumb by any means, but there were things she wasn't knowledgeable about - crime, antiques, and vigilantism were certainly among them. "Listen, I don't have anything else for you. If you wanted a professional -"

"You're doing more than enough, Miss Branigan," he interrupted. "There's just very little I can do without more information. That's why I've brought something that should help us get what we need." He tapped a spot on his utility belt which caused a small compartment to open, and he pulled out a small object the size of a button with a miniscule flashing light. "Your phone, Miss Branigan."

"You're sending me into Luthor Mansion bugged now?" Claire asked, suddenly bristling and taking a reflexive step backward. Reporting back was one thing - showing up bugged to the home of someone who exhibited any level of trust in her was another entirely. "Are you trying to get me murdered?"

Her expression quickly shifted into a frown - the concern for her own safety if she was ever found out was one thing - her conscience was entirely another. As intolerable as Lex Luthor could be, there were things said in confidence - and as a nurse, which she had not yet forgotten she was, this tried her sense of morality But this was an order from the Bat, the person who had orchestrated this situation to begin with. She could agree now, she could deal with her conscience later. Hesitantly, she reached for the back pocket of the scrubs pants she had changed back into, but as she patted around all of the multiple pockets, her stomach sank.

Her phone wasn't there.

"My phone's back at the mansion," Claire spoke up with a shrug, masking the fact that among the things she felt at the moment, one of the most prominent ones was definitely relief - a free pass. "I need to go back and get it."

"The next time you see me, then," he said sternly, tucking the small device away. "But we need this done as quickly as possible, Miss Branigan. You are a vital part of this."

"Gotcha."

Claire didn't dare mention how much she would have appreciated knowing what exactly she was a vital part of.

* * *

Lex had not felt confident that his hold on Claire remained as strong as it should, based on the terms upon which she departed. He had half-expected her to resign when they arrived back at the mansion away from prying eyes, but she hadn't. She had ridden out the remainder of a full shift, speaking as little as possible, and left.

He had decided to stay in the study for a few drinks to help himself sleep this evening, still perturbed by this unacceptable loss of control in his situation. The outing wasn't meant to go this way. If she had just stayed in the seat like she was supposed to, if she hadn't put her nose where it did not belong, there would have been no issue - but there was. There was most certainly an issue that would at some point need to be addressed, but not now. Right now, all that needed to be addressed was the full scotchglass in front of him, which he gladly downed. After two more overfilled glasses, which spilled a bit after his strangely shaky hands tipped it too far over, he finally felt the familiar sensation of sleep settling on him.

But one of the things he hated about sleep was dreaming...

_"Now, Mister Luthor," a man in a white coat and thick-rimmed glasses, leaning towards Lex - he felt paralyzed, but knew he wasn't. He looked down and saw his arms strapped to the wooden armrests of the chair. He struggled and found that it felt just like it had when he'd been there - in Arkham. Again, he was trapped and powerless at the hands of men who were meant to have been helping him. Lex Luthor was no longer a boy who wanted or needed help - and yet, here he was. "I'm looking forward to speaking with you again..."_

_"Get your hands off me!" Lex attempted to roar, only to have his voice catch in his throat while the doctor yanked up the sleeve of Lex's loose, institution-issued shirt, poised to sink a syringe into his arm. "Get off me!"_

_A sudden shift, a tugging sensation behind his navel as he felt that he had been yanked out of one scene and into another, also retrieved from the deepest recesses of his memory. He was in the general sleeping area for the lower acuity patients, where he had been thrown in with the others like a common criminal - a run of the mill unatic. This place - this was the reason why he didn't sleep anymore. This was the place where so many of the nightmares had started._

_It was dark, almost pitch black except for a few slivers of moonlight peering in through the barred window, and practically silent until a sound seemed to bleed into the room, filling it through the vents and the grates - laughter. Someone here in this place was laughing. The thought of laughter - especially enthused, shrill, loud laughter like this - was unthinkable in a place like this. He sat bolt upright in his bed, swinging his legs over the side, and it was like he could still feel the cold tile floor underneath his feet. His head whipped around as though he could somehow find the source of the voice._

_A second, more muted laugh came from the bed next to him, and Lex squinted against the darkness, glaring suspiciously at the person who stared pointedly at him._

_"You're new here, aren't you?" the other, older, scraggly man chortled before getting to his feet and hovering right in front of Lex's face. "You don't know about him? The Joker?"_

_"The Joker?" Lex asked with a sneer on his face, attempting a guise of fearlessness in spite of this being an outright lie. "Sounds like -"_

_"The Bat got him put away years ago. Been in solitary ever since - we hear him every night. Laughin'," the man said hoarsely, not backing off a centimeter from Lex. "He's a relic, maybe. From the golden days of the Gotham Underworld. But he's here. He's real."_

_"I don't care," Lex sneered. "If he's here, he's no one. He's no one just like all of you in here. You're scum. You," he continued with a forced, high-pitched laugh, "are the dregs of society that society forgot -"_

_"You're here too, bigshot," the man hissed. "And Arkham breaks everyone eventually. You just haven't gotten a proper Arkham welcome."_

_And from his peripheral vision. Lex saw that more figures around him were moving in the darkness, all around him. They were coming towards him, stalking slowly and quietly as the man who spoke with him leaned in as close as evenly possible, his mouth curling into a toothy, sadistic grin. "It's time to change that."_

_And suddenly, Lex found himself being yanked by the front of his shirt and shoved onto the floor, with kicks and punches raining down on his back and abdomen as he left out a pained groan. It was too familiar, too reminiscent of a life he thought he'd escaped. He was no longer a boy. He was a man. He didn't cower in fear this way anymore - he was Lex Luthor now. He was the only remaining Lex Luthor._

_But no. Here, he was just the broken boy he had been before at the hands of his father. Here, he was just weak, pathetic Alexander. "Stop!" he squelched, attempting futilely to hide himself from the blows. "Stop!"_

* * *

Claire heard the sound of a scream immediately upon turning her key to Luthor Mansion - she had intended only to come back and collect her phone, but reflexively, she darted towards the source of the sound. She quickly reached the study and quickly took in the scene - a fallen glass and bottle of scotch on the floor at the feet of the large, plush armchair where Lex Luthor had fallen asleep and was now writhing, screaming in his sleep.

"Stop!" he growled through gritted teeth. "Get your hands off of me!" Claire rushed forward and knelt next to the chair, attempting to get a hold of his flailing arms and not succeeding. "Don't touch me -"

"Lex," Claire said, her voice clear as she reached out, grabbing a hold of his upper arms just firmly enough to stop his arms from swinging. She would have let him simply ride it out, were it not for the fact that he very well could have hurt himself with his swinging and flailing. "Lex, listen to me - wake up. You're home."

At the sound of the word home, Lex's eyes shot open and he visibly flinched at the fact that Claire's face, again in that same expression of concern and dutiful nurturing, was the first thing he saw. But everything still bled together in his mind, unclear whether what he was seeing and hearing was in the waking world or in his dreams. It made no sense for her to be here to wake him. He'd had nightmares as a boy - nothing like these, nothing like the terrors that had come to roost in his mind since the Penitentiary, since Arkham - and no one had ever woken him. No one had ever saved him.

"He's - he's always laughing," he said, desperately reaching out for something, anything, and unconsciously resting his hands on either side of Claire's face as though unsure if she was a figment of his imagination. His eyes focused intently on her face as though it would disappear as part of the dream - he rushed and stumbled over his words. "I can't go back there, Claire - I can't let them take me back there -"

"Hey - come on, just -"

"Don't-" he said with narrowed eyes filled with panic, his hands growing stiff and grasping, "- let them take me back there."

"You're not going anywhere, Lex," Claire interrupted, now placing her hands over his on either side of her face, removing them and doing what she always seemed to be able to - grasping them and halting their fidgeting and flailing, instead holding them still in his lap while he stared at her in something akin to confusion. "Look at me," she said once she saw his gaze start to flick around as though he was looking for someone, as though afraid of someone. "You're not going anywhere."

"Why are you here?" Lex asked, his expression blank and piercing, perhaps not even sure if she too was not a figment of a nightmare that would lash out and do him harm. "You were gone."

"I left my phone in the guest suite, so I came back," she said honestly. "I heard screaming coming from in here."

"And you came. You knew it was me and you came. Why?" he asked, his brow furrowing. "It was perfectly clear when you left that you were completely disgusted with me."

"Because," Claire said simply, "I'm not supposed to let anything happen to you." Claire assumed that this answer would be sufficient, but instead, Lex's expression grew more suspicious, more perplexed at the fact that her response was so simple. She paused and shifted so that she was almost kneeling, positioned more comfortably next to the chair. "You were dreaming, weren't you? About Arkham?"

And Lex didn't not need to answer with words - his expression, pale, sickly, and full of barely concealed terror just at the mention of the place, said enough. Claire felt her heart sink. Batman was the one behind putting him there, and when she was angry at Lex Luthor, perhaps it was easy enough to say that it was justified - that he was manipulative and evil and belonged with his own kind. But face-to-face, when he was like this in front of her, Claire felt something very different. His actions, his treatment and exploitation of her, all of these things were something that Claire found reprehensible. Repugnant. But none of it was justification for being subject to such lasting terror.

Without thinking as she glanced over Lex's face and noted his rapid breaths, the perspiration on his brow, she reached out and gently swiped a hand over his cheek - the motion made Lex freeze, his face contorting into a confused frown as he got abruptly to his feet, removing his hands from Claire's hold and beginning to pace back and forth across the floor.

This was wrong, he thought to himself as he walked the same steps, back and forth, over and over, raising a balled fist up to cover his mouth as he shook his head. This was wrong. He wasn't meant to be seen this way, and now it was too late. He had shown weakness, and he knew the way people responded to being shown weakness. People were all the same, and Claire was no exception. Now, he had given her something to use against him. He had given her a foothold, and now, when she'd made herself his only ally, she was in every position to walk away.

"I'm going to stay here," Claire spoke up finally, causing his to stop in his tracks and face her as she stood up and walked over to the larger sofa, sitting on it and continuing to look at Lex with the same calm expression. Her calm was unsettling to him because it wasn't like his calm. There was a peacefulness to her demeanor that he could not grasp - a clarity to her that he could not relate to. Sighing gently at his expression, Claire stood up and gently clasped her hands around one of his forearms, guiding him to sit on the sofa before sitting down next to him.

"You need to rest," she stated firmly. "And I'm not going anywhere. Alright?"

Perhaps his nightmares about Arkham had just left him completely spent, but Lex found no reason to fight back on the issue. He didn't look at her, because seeing that face left him with more questions than answers. He had very intentionally structured the previous day to test her with every confidence that she would leave, and she did not. She was still here. What this meant, Lex didn't yet want to extrapolate because the implications of such an extrapolation were too great. But she was here, and Lex had reasonable faith that if he were to in his dreams find himself in that place again, she would wake him.

He had reached the conclusion now that Claire Branigan could perhaps be trusted. Trusted minimally, perhaps, but trusted nonetheless. Quickly, out of sheer exhaustion, he found that he couldn't have helped falling back asleep if he tried to, and his eyes again drifted shut, his neck relaxing and his head tilting to one side. But this wasn't comfortable at all, his mind reminded him sleepily, and without a second thought, he kicked his feet up and adjusted himself so he was laying across the couch with his legs draped over Claire's lap. Faintly through his sleepy haze, he heard a small snort of laughter, and Claire let out a huff but did not force him to move.

"Sleep tight, Mister Luthor," she said with a light chuckle. He felt her move only slightly, and then the slight weight of the blanket falling over him, covering him as he again more peacefully succumbed to sleep.


	9. Chapter 9

Lex Luthor did not get good nights' sleep - it was the way of things, and always had been. He had never been safe in his own home, even when his father, the man who was supposed to be every boy's protector, was still alive. It was natural to him to sleep with one eye open. So, when he woke in the morning, still on the sofa in the den, covered by a blanket, he found it unsettling that he felt...

...rested.

He had slept, and woken without the haze of the sleeping pills he had recently grown fond of. The white noise, the buzzing, the constant droning on of activity that had become baseline for him had, for the moment, quieted to an unusual lull. A pleasant hum. He sat up, and his brow furrowed until he realized that one part of his very strange dreams from the previous evening weren't a dream after all. Claire had been by, but by the looks of things, had left at some point while he slept. But the point was that he had slept. Sleep - good sleep, anyway - was a luxury which he had never been afforded because it was never safe. The possibility that the presence of an admittedly scrawny young woman with no physical strength or advantage and nothing to aid her except razor-wit made him feel any safer was presposterous, he reminded himself as he got to his feet, prepared to leave the den. He'd haphazardly folded the blanket and cast it over the back of the sofa when he heard the sound of a clang and a voice in another room.

"Piece of shit!"

And now, another sense awoke - Lex smelled food coming from the kitchen and made his way down the hall, smoothing a hand over his head, which had grown out a small sheet of stubble after having gone unmaintained for a few days now. He made his way to the kitchen and found that Claire had not left after all, but was instead looking slightly tired and unkempt, frowning down at her hand before raising it to her mouth and gently sucking on the side, wincing.

Never mind the fact that for a moment, Lex was visually fixated on her mouth, pressed to the side of her hand. Never mind.

"I didn't think I'd need to child-proof my kitchen just to keep my nurse from getting injured," Lex chirped with a smirk, walking over and swiping up some food by hand - he'd gone straight for the stack of pancakes that were cooked and waiting on the counter, while Claire continued glaring at him. "Pans are - they're usually hot after you cook with them, it's fascinating. I guess they don't teach that in nursing school."

"I'm surprised you know that, considering you've never cooked a meal in your life," Claire said, fighting back a sneer of annoyance as she walked over to the sink, running cold water over the small spot on the side of her hand that had brushed the side of the hot pan she'd just finished cooking with. Lex, unfazed, took a seat at the kitchen counter and rolled the pancake up by hand, taking a bite from it as he leaned across the counter.

"So old-timey, Leave it to Beaver-ish," he said with a chortle between bites. "A beautiful woman in the kitchen making me breakfast - all that's missing is a newspaper and some slippers. I don't suppose you could make that happen, could you?"

Claire glanced back over her shoulder with a raised eyebrow as she turned off the running water and found that she couldn't tell whether Lex was kidding or not. With a roll of her eyes, she walked across to the coffee table and picked up a newspaper, opening it up to one page in particular and placing the day's edition of the Daily Planet on the counter in front of Lex, her expression now considerably soured as she tapped her finger impatiently on a photo on the page. Lex glance down and smirked at the site of himself and Claire seated at the table at La Parisienne, laughing and looking considerably cozy with one another from the particular angle at which it had been taken. "Since you bring up newspapers," she said shortly.

"That is an excellent photo of you - nice sneak peek at those legs under the table," Lex smirked, picking up the paper and holding it closer to his face to scrutinize the black-and-white photo more thoroughly. "You," he said finally, gently folding it and pointing it in Claire's direction, "are a natural at this. Never would've expected it under, you know, all of that." Lex now used the folded up paper as a pointer, making a vague gesture around Claire, who was still dressed in scrubs and had her hair pulled back messily, since she hadn't yet taken the time to change. "Maybe a little bit more of a pout next time. Little more leg -"

"Next time!" Claire said with a scoff, snatching the paper from Lex's hand and casting it aside before walking back around the counter to pour herself a mug of coffee.

Truth be told, Lex couldn't wrap his head around what Claire thought she was doing. She was, very likely, completely out of her mind. Just yesterday, she had been moments away from resigning, and Lex wasn't oblivious enough not to be able to pick up on it. He'd expected it, really. Even perhaps been angling for it. After all, it was best to weed out the ones who could not be trusted early. And now, instead, she had stayed when she didn't need to, just for the sake of taking care of him - not for the sake of ingratiating herself to him, clearly. His expression quickly shifted, and he felt the same old familiar hum of activity in his head again as he began to question what was happening.

"Where did you learn all of this? Last night. This morning," he said with a few frenetic gestures of his hands, and like clockwork, the sudden shift in tone caused Claire to turn towards him with that look again. Every time this happened, Lex began to process, she always gave him that look, as though she was concerned or something, which he knew to be false. People weren't concerned for others just for the sake of being concerned. That was not the way people were. "They don't teach it in nursing school," he said with a snide irk of his eyebrows, "and I'm certain that your gem of a mother didn't teach it to you."

And then, it was as though a switch had flipped off - Claire's forehead wrinkled, and her entire face seemed to melt into a mix between a glare and a frown. Lex's eyebrows jumped and he got to his feet, holding up his hands defensively. "Sorry! Sorry," he said with a falsely nervous chuckle. "Was that still supposed to be a secret, Claire? Because I told you before, I do my homework on people."

"I don't know what you -"

"It's a fascinating story. You should tell it more often," Lex said as he realized that he had finally, finally succeeded in touching a nerve. He'd made a dent in her armor, and now found that he couldn't help himself in continuing to chip away at it. Even after last night, after the loyalty she had shown him, this tiny thread he had exposed was one he couldn't help but tug at to see if he could make it unravel. "Loving father gets put in prison for a crime he didn't commit, because he blew the whistle on some bad, bad people - and poor Claire and Mother Dearest are left to fend for themselves in the big city until, Eureka! Daddy is exonerated and they can be a happy little family again."

"You don't know what you're -"

"But wait! By now, poor little Claire is all grown up and accustomed to being Daddyless, going to school in a new city, happy to be out from under Mommy's thumb. Didn't even know daddy was home. And while little Claire is away, Mommy decides she can't hang around waiting for her deadbeat ex-con of a husband to get a job -"

"Stop it..."

"So she ups and leaves town, and in his despair, poor Daddy put himself on the right side of a pistol and -"

"I said stop!"

Claire's voice had suddenly grown into a shrill scream, and she slammed her coffee mug down on the counter to reveal that her arms were shaking in fury at the affront to her privacy, as though by taking her story from her, Lex Luthor had actually stolen something from her. And then, he caught a glance of her eyes and the way they glinted from the light of the sun streaming through the window.

She wasn't supposed to cry. Crying was another thing entirely. Lex had merely hoped that he would make her snap, that she would be so angry at him that she would prove him right and walk away, as figures of good always did when their investment became too costly - that was not what this was. She was, on the contrary, becoming more invested. One didn't show weakness that way if they were not.

"Don't you get it? You're supposed to be... clever," Lex said, walking around to counter so that he was standing in front of her, almost hovering over her while she continued to shake in fury. "This is what made you. That's where all of it comes from. It's your Jabberwocky - your unslayable beast. You couldn't have more time with dear old daddy," he scoffed, lilting over the last word with ironic relish. "You didn't know what he was going through and you couldn't save him, so you want to try to save everyone else in hopes that your guilty, guilty conscience will eventually become as pure as the untrodden snow. You're so very simple to read, Claire. Clever mind, but simple, simple heart."

"That isn't any of your business," Claire said through gritted teeth. "You have no business -"

"I have no business? On the contrary, fair mademoiselle, I have business. I have a very, very big business," Lex interrupted with a smirk. "And you, my dear, are now a part of it."

Claire's breathing grew heavier, her chest gently heaved and her hands were still balled at her sides. Lex, seeing that he was pushing her buttons and again feeling unable to keep from continuing for the feeling of power that it instilled in him, he leaned closer to her face to make sure she could see his smirk. Lex Luthor needed her to know that he was in a position to taunt her.

And if the point was to finally break her, it appeared that he succeeded.

"That's enough," Claire said, breaking eye contact and placing a few steps of distance between herself and Lex, shaking her head. "I've had enough. I quit. There is a very thin line between being needed and being used, and since the moment I set foot in this house, you've picked up that line and twirled it the fuck around like some kind of deranged ribbon dancer," Claire said, jabbing her index finger onto Lex's chest before narrowing her eyes and repeating her decision. "I. Quit."

There it was - exactly what Lex had been aiming for. Proof to his theory that people simply could not just be good. Making her quit was the icing on the cake, because her concern for him was so unsettlingly genuine, and even that was something that could be broken because it was weak.

And yet, now that it was confirmed true in his mind, he found that it was entirely unsatisfying.

Claire rolled her eyes and scoffed in disgust before pushing past Lex out of the kitchen, prepared to walk out of Luthor Mansion and never look back, even if it meant drawing the ire of Gotham's resident vigilante. It simply wasn't worth it anymore. Lex, however, was not satisfied by this turn of events and in a few strides had caught up with Claire in the hallway, catching her by the crook of the arm and, rather than pulling, stopping in his tracks and forcing her to stop as well, stumbling back towards him with a livid, disbelieving expression.

"Yesterday wasn't enough to make you quit, and this was?" Lex asked with a brow-furrowing, disbelieving chuckle. "A shifty, fickle object is woman, always. You are a conundrum, Claire."

"Yeah. Thank you."

"You're not quitting."

The statement was spoken with such confidence, such finality, and no sense of asking or worry whatsoever. Claire's eyebrows rose and she blinked a few times as though waiting for the punchline of a joke, only to find that it didn't come.

"Wow," she said with a humorless dry cough of a laugh, shaking her head and yanking her arm out of Lex's grasp. "Wow."

She turned on her heel again to leave, with the front door in her direct line of sight - but froze when Lex barked out her name with such authority, such fury that she turned around to stare in a mix of both confusion and fear and... there is was again. Concern. Lex's lip curled into a slight sneer as he plodded the few steps to close the space between them, placing a hand on each of her shoulders with a firm grip and planting himself directly in front of her with a deep, probing expression.

"If you were planning on leaving, you would have done it after last night and you didn't," he said, his voice still practically a growl as though her concern now legitimately angered him. "Your job is not to look at me with that look in your eyes. That is not your job, Claire. It is no one's job. It is their job to do as I say. It is no one's job to... to..."

To care about you, Claire supplied silently through only the look in her eyes - that look that Lex found so unsettling because it was something he had never been on the receiving end of. He had never been destined for genuine caring or adulation. The grip of his hands on her shoulders grew tighter and began shaking slightly, and the color seemed to drain from his face as he studied her with great confusion and frustration. Claire reached up and clasped her hands over his, removing them from her shoulders with a gentle squeeze and lowering them to his sides.

It perturbed him, Lex realized, that something about this woman had a way of disarming him. The fact of the matter was that by training or witchcraft or anything else, something in her character remained unaffected by his most powerful weapons, the wit and the barbs which he had developed out of necessity. And having her walk out of Luthor Mansion meant the risk of a weapon falling into the wrong hands. It meant that knowledge of his weakness went wherever she went.

"I... need you," he said with a plaintive shake of his head, now calm again as he made a gesture almost of surrender that, to his internal joy, seemed to catch Claire off her guard enough to now disarm her of her anger from moments earlier. "I have a legacy to rebuild, and I need you."

That was it, Lex realized as he almost could see the shift in her eyes. That was the key - her need to be needed, to save someone. And Lex could allow himself to believe now that to some extent, these things could be out of inherent goodness because she was...

...frail. Powerless. Delicate. Because is she were anything but these things, if she did have power, then it was his long-held, loudly spoken belief that she could not be good. But she was, and she was on his side. Now, though he was not willing to explore the reasons why he felt this way, it would behoove him to keep her here.

He felt his body tense when she sighed and started to turn back to the door, but seeing his sudden shift, she held up her hand - and he cringed inwardly at the fact that somehow, the small gesture had caused him to heel like a domesticated animal.

"I'll be back tonight," she said, raising her eyebrows gently. "I have things to do."

"You have a shift at the clinic in Gotham. You don't need to be secretive about it," he said, tilting his head to one side. "I told you -"

"I know," Claire interrupted in slight exasperation. "You do your homework."

And Lex smirked to himself slightly now as she walked out the door. She would be back, he was more than reasonably certain. He deserved a worthy ally. He deserved her. All other things were futile - even rebuilding his reputation was, in his mind, some level of folly that was for his own amusement. After all, he and only he knew what was coming - Lex certainly had not forgotten the things he had learned on the Kryptonian vessel. Things were not happening as soon or as quickly as expected, but they would happen.

He deserved decent amusement in the meantime, and Claire Branigan was by far the most amusing person he had encountered in a good while. That was all, he reminded himself. She was an amusing plaything.


	10. Chapter 10

"She never went back to her apartment after going back for her phone at Luthor Mansion. The door sensor was never set off."

"And what do you need me to do, Bruce?"

Doctor Leslie Thompkins did not purport to be an expert Bruce Wayne's more secretive activities - she had known him since he was a boy, since his parents had passed away, and even so would be the first to admit that she often didn't understand him in the slightest. She had merely committed to helping him, and even now that she was getting on in years, a promise was a promise. She disagreed with the things he did as Batman, but was perhaps the most understanding out of anyone about why he did any of it at all.

"Just make sure she's alright when she comes in for her shift," Bruce explained, with the implication of the question of whether she would arrive at all. When it came to Lex Luthor, one could never be too certain. Doctor Thompkins agreed and hung up just in time for Claire to walk in the door looking utterly...

...unremarkable.

Claire Branigan looked nothing like someone who had been away from home all night. She looked as though she had gotten dressed and prepared in a hurry, the way she always did, and wasted no time before making a beeline for the patient charts to be reviewed for the day.

"Sorry!" she said in a slightly breathless voice, tightening her ponytail at the nape of her neck. "Am I late?"

"Five minutes early as always," Dr. Thompkins said with a dry, wise grin, moving over to go through charts alongside her rather than confronting her directly - Leslie Thompkins, in a the way of a kind, wise old woman, knew how to get people to talk if she needed to. "But more flustered than usual. Are you okay to work today?"

"Of course I am!" Claire replied as she rapidly looked up, her voice perhaps more shrill than it needed to me. "I'm fine. I just had a long night, that's all -"

"At your other job?" Dr. Thompkins said with a gentle tilt of her head to one side. "I've gotten the sense from you that it's been demanding a great deal of your attention, Claire. If you're struggling -"

"It's not the job that I'm struggling with," Claire said vaguely, reaching back and pulling out the ballpoint pen that held her ponytail into a sloppy bun. Dr. Thompkins blinked, unsure of how to interpret the statement - if not Lex Luthor, what else would be leaving her so flustered, so clearly out of her zone? But, as quickly as the weary expression appeared, it was quickly replaced by Claire's signature go-getter grin that had earned her so many friends in this place - because when she was here, everything was put aside. "Let's open up those doors and start seeing those patients!" she said brightly, but her sudden swing of energy was tempered by Dr. Thompkins reaching out and placing a hand on her forearm.

"Before the day starts, I wanted to ask if you were planning on taking the exam soon - becoming a full-fledged nurse practitioner. Taking on patients of your own," Dr. Thompkins asked. "I don't know what's been bothering you, but whatever it is, it's holding you back. And I don't like that Claire. You have too much potential."

"I've... I've been studying, Doctor Thompkins," Claire lied with a weak attempt at laughter. "I'm sure I'm almost ready. Soon," she assured. "There's nothing in the world I want more to really work here. Nothing."

Dr. Thompkins couldn't help but scrutinize her expressions, her voice, her movements - she knew that Claire wasn't a patient, but by now, she had become something even more important. Claire, like Bruce Wayne, had become something like a child to her as well, and it was clear at this moment that something was not right. Leslie Thompkins had no children of her, and so those she had taken under her winfg were more important to her than anything. There were three great stressors present in Claire's life, and if it was not her studies, and it was not her very important patient, there was only one other possibility. But Dr. Thompkins didn't bother her further on the topic, knowing that seeing patients was one of the few places where Claire found actual joy in what she was doing. There was precious little that she could do to change Claire's situation even with all that she knew, but she could give her this much. Dr. Thompkins watched Claire closely throughout the day - she had been in this business for even longer than the clinic in Gotham's infamous Crime Alley had been open, and she saw herself in the young nurse, full of willingness to help others and fervor for making things better.

The day passed quickly - perhaps aided by the fact that sunset seemed to come unseasonably early today. Even in the height of summer, the sunlight was already growing dim and fading into a deep lavender by the time the clinic started seeing its last patients at five in the evening. Claire gave a small yawn and looked out the window, finally sitting down in a chair by a desk and finishing up her documentation for the day.

"I'll take car of closing up the clinic today, Claire. If you've got any juice left, you should start studying for a certain exam when you get home," Dr. Thompkins said with a slight nudge, sitting in a chair next to her. Claire gave a week laugh and scratched the back of her neck. "You're going home, aren't you?"

"Something like that," Claire shrugged.

Dr. Thompkins did not push the issue further with her young protegee, but, after the younger woman had left, picked up the phone with a deep breath.

"Bruce," she said into the receiver once he had picked up. "Claire was here - she's fine. But I don't know if she's going home tonight."

* * *

After getting of the phone with Leslie Thompkins, Bruce found himself unable to help needing a moment of clarity that could only be found in a glass of scotch. He had been in the study, attempting as he always was to find leads to the locations of the new metahumans, and as she had frequently been in the recent months, Diana Prince was present as well to assist. She looked with slight disdain at the fact that Bruce was seeking solace in a solution that would not aid in their work.

"We're losing her, Di," Bruce said, shaking his head and taking another swig from his glass, clenching his eyelids shut so he could focus all of his senses to the burning of thie liquor down his throat. "The nurse is central to our plan - to making sure we have an eye on Luthor's movements. If she refuses to report back, he has the opportunity to pull one over on us and I can't let that happen again. Not after-"

"Claire," Diana corrected, her forehead wrinkled as her face pulled into a frown, rising to her feet and looking at Bruce eye-to-eye. The intense eye contact, in turn, distracted him from his drinking and drew his attention to the woman in front of him who without question commanded it. "Her name is Claire. She is a person, not a tool, and you've failed to treat her as one, Bruce. If we lose her, then it is your doing -"

"And you think she's being treated like any more of a person in Luthor Mansion?" Bruce interrupted, though Diana was able to pick up on a slight slur throughout his syllables. Bruce shook his head, partially in incredulity and partially perhaps to clear the haze. "We're not hurting the girl, Diana. Do you think whatever is happening in Luthor Mansion is preferable -"

"You forget that Luthor values her. It was the entire reason you chose her," Diana corrected vehemently. "I don't pretend to know things that I have not seen - but I have seen _many_ things, Bruce. I've been alive a long time, and I know that whether you believe someone is fully good or fully evil, you will be wrong either way."

"There is no good in Lex Luthor," Bruce said, unable to suppress a sneer. How could it be that someone who had seen so much of the world, so much of the awful things and awful people that it could contained, could maintain such a naive sentiment? Unconsciously, he found himself leaning closer to Diana, scrutinizing her expression but finding that in the process, he finally really looked at her. She had been right in her assessment long ago that he had never met a woman like her. He had never met a woman more set in her convictions, more swift in intellect and in strategy. Even now, when she so confrontationally was defying him, there was an energy that practically seemed to radiate from her. He realized that he had never met a woman he had considered so worthy - worthy was the only word he could muster to describe the power she exuded.

"That is not your judgment to make, Bruce," Diana retorted after an intense pause. And then - perhaps out of a mix of intense emotion and scotch and awe of the woman in front of him - he leaned over and pressed his lips to hers, gently running his rough hand over her shoulder, up the side of her neck, winding gently into the soft hairs at the nape of her neck. A low, boiling sense of desire seemed to overcome all other perception of their surroundings as Diana for a few stirring seconds reciprocated the kiss, but quickly pulled away, looking down at the ground with brows knitted as a perturbed expression crossed her refined features. She took a step back from Bruce with a deep frown, but shook her head and walked around the table to where one of the state-of-the-art Wayne Enterprises-issue laptops was still opened to the work she had been doing.

Bruce, for his part, realized what he had done and grimaced, shaking his head and scratching the back of his neck, pushing the half-finished glass of liquor away from himself across the table with a light scratching sound. Diana Prince was not like other women - and he realized that he ought to have known better than to treat her like he treated other woman.

"Diana, I'm sorry -"

"We have a lead," she said, turning the laptop to face him and appearing extremely committed to not acknowledging the events of moments prior. On the screen of the laptop was a photo from the website of the Central City police department, with a younger man in the back whose face was the only vaguely familiar one in the picture.

"The metahuman from the convenience store. I remember."

"His name is Barry Allen," Diana correctly quickly, and Bruce could tell from the shortness in her tone that she considered his references to metahumans as though they were others as a grave offense that made his indiscretions from not even a minute ago an even greater offense. Bruce Wayne's detachment from people made him strong as a tactician, strong as Batman perhaps, but in her eyes it weakened him terribly as a person. If not for that weakness, Diana wondered in some small corner of her mind if perhaps his advances might have been welcome. "He's a junior forensic scientist for the Central City Police."

Again, a silence settled between the pair of them - Diana shut the laptop and walked back around the table to stand in front of Bruce again, gently tilting her head to one side. "I've told you before. We will never work together to any success if you continue to see only humans and metahumans. If you choose to only see enemies, then enemies are all you will ever have."

And again, in the way she always seemed to, she turned on her heel at the perfect beat to depart the room with a casual, almost dismissive, "Good night, Mister Wayne."

* * *

Claire felt a sense of apprehension at the fact that when she pulled up in front of Luthor Mansion, Lex, clad in khakis, a sweater, and Converse shoes, was standing outside with one of his cars already pulled into the front driveway - he leaned against the car and twirling his keyring lazily around his index finger.

This morning, he had decided, was too close for comfort. Perhaps yes, it had been intentional on his part that he had pushed her so hard as somewhat of a test. But people had to be tested. It was the only way to know who people truly were - who people truly were. But now, the priority was ensuring that he would not lose his sole ally now that she had passed his test.

"There she is! The lady of the hour," Lex smirked, closing his hand around his keys with a flourish and walking over to meet Claire with a wide-armed gesture, while she in turn froze in hesitation. "You must be exhausted. Your chariot awaits -"

"What are you doing?" she interrupted, crossing her arms over herself and taking a step back before Lex could place his hands on her shoulders. "If this is another -"

"This isn't another anything. This is one human being offering another human being his gratitude - I'd like to offer you a proper meal, no cameras, no get-ups. No... ulterior motive."

At the last phrase, Claire couldn't help but allow a small twitch in her expression. The idea of Lex Luthor having no ulterior motive was laughable to say the least. But even if she could not believe him as being completely honest, there was something earnest about his statement and the fact that at the very least, he had taken the effort to get dressed and bring out one of his favorite cars to make the gesture.

"Fine," Claire said, and Lex clapped his hands together, giving a slightly jerky nod of his head.

"Perfect! Prepare to be blown away."

Claire, still in her scrubs, clambered into the passenger seat of the car and kept her hands folded in her lap the entire way, as though hoping that shrinking herself to as small a size as possible would make this experience any less unusual.

Luthor was situated just at the edge of Metropolis, so she was surprised when the car zoomed along farther from the city proper - no more than ten miles, but off far enough so that they were now nearer to the bay. Lex stopped the car at scenic viewpoint, a cliff overlooking the water, and turned off the engine, which earned him a questioning glance from Claire who immediately undid my seatbelt.

"If you dragged me out here to axe-murder me, Mister Luthor, you certainly haven't planned it well. Blood's gonna be awful to get out of your leather upholstery in here."

"You wound me, Miss Branigan," Lex smirked, feigning affront and clasping a hand over his heart before stepping out of the car and nodding for her to do the same. In compliance, Claire stepped out and walked around to the front of the car, while Lex pulled something out from the trunk of the car. It was already dark out, but the lamppost light overhead cast enough light on them and their surroundings so Claire could see him bring over a pair o wine glasses in one hand with the bottled cradled in the crook of his arm, and two black plastic to-go containers that Claire recognized from a chintzy old Italian place in Metropolis. He placed everything down on the hood of the car and proceeded to pour two glasses of wine, not bothering to ask where or not Claire wanted any.

"As promised. No cameras, no gimmicks," he said, holding out the glass to her and allowing one side of his mouth to quirk into a slight grin as she raised the glass to her lips and took a drink. Good, he decided. She still possessed some level of trust in him. He took a drink himself and again relished the way the alcohol seemed to get warmer on its way down - he had never had any affinity for this particular vice until his father's most unfortunate passing, but he had now come to see its merits.

Claire was, admittedly, famished by now - and immensely thankful that Lex didn't attempt to speak to her any more as she ate. The pair of them simply stood there, leaning against the hood of the car, eating and drinking in silence. There was something to be said, she realized, about being able to remain silently in someone's presence.

"I'm surprised. You haven't looked even once at your phone to check the time since we got here," Lex said as he poured a second glass of wine. Claire frowned slightly, thinking that now she would need to be the one to drive home since he was clearly planning on indulging himself on the vino. She was surprised, however, when he instead slid the glass over to her, and in her surprised, she accepted another drink. "You're usually very much in a hurry to get somewhere, Claire."

"I'm not in any rush to go home."

The phrase was short and frank, but did something to fill the air between them again with a strange electricity because of the strange undertone of fear in it.

Claire knew, of course, where the fear came from. It came from the thought of walking back into her apartment and not knowing whether or not she would be alone, and from the feeling of ambivalence she felt towards something she thought she should not have felt it towards. Claire knew that Batman was supposed to be the good guy - the hero. But Claire saw nothing heroic about doing what was asked of her, and that was why she was in no rush to go back home.

Lex, on the other hand, heard something familiar in the way she had said it - because he was all too familiar with the thought of being afraid to go home, of not knowing what was waiting for you there. And it set the wheels in his head turning - there was something she did not want to go home to, and she preferred being away from it. She preferred being here. With him.

"Then don't go," he shrugged noncommittally. "I have a perfectly good guest suite."

"I can't do that," Claire dismissed, shaking her head. Lex paused and made a point of staring - very intently staring. After a few moments, Claire turned to look at him with a questioning expression, placing the glass of wine down again on the hood of the car. Lex took this brief opening in her body language to shift over so that he had a hand on either side of her on the hood of the car, hovering over her. Her eyes widened in surprised, but perhaps because of the couple of glasses of wine, she didn't immediately react.

Lex realized he had been this close to her in the restaurant as well - and there had been something thrilling too about lingering so close to her when she was as angry as she had been then. But there was something entirely different about the proximity to her when she was like this, calm and perhaps vulnerable. He felt simultaneously predatorial and protective, and his eyes scanned her face for a reaction that had not yet come.

"You're such a waste, Claire," he said suddenly - and now, her eyes glinted with surprise and confusion, which elicited only a smirk from Lex. "Such an awful, awful waste."

"What are you talking about?" Claire asked with her brow furrowing. She gently reached up and placed a hand on Lex's chest with the intention of pushing him away, but he caught her by the wrist - gently enough so that for once, it was not a threatening gesture - and lowered her hand.

"I told you, I've done my homework on you. I know you didn't become a nurse until after your father died," he said matter-of-factly. "Like me - your father's death changed the trajectory of your entire life. Brought you to this very spot. But one has to wonder how big a help the Princeton Microbiology Fellowship was in getting you a job as my babysitter. Let me guess," Lex said with a slight chuckle when Claire finally managed to gently push him away and step off a few steps around the side of the car as though she was about to get back inside, shaking her head in disdain. "You want to make a difference. You want to help people. It's wonderfully pointless work, Claire."

"You don't know anything about me, Lex."

"On the contrary," he grinned, holding up his index finger and wagging it in Claire's direction. "I know a great deal about you. A great, great deal." He again glanced her over as she rolled her eyes, but did not fight back or flee - she was listening. She was receptive, and now was the time, he decided.

"Work for me," Lex said suddenly, and the sudden imperative caused Claire to cock her head to one side questioningly.

"I was under the impression I already did. For sixty hours a week," she deadpanned, raising her eyebrows. "Lex, we really should go -"

"I meant," Lex said, shutting his eyes and again shaking a finger in her direction, "work for LexCorp. You're above the work you're doing, Claire."

"I'm flattered," she said with a forced, poised smile that tugged at her unpainted lips, only barely lifting her cheeks which were slightly reddened from the cool wind and the wine. "But I must respectfully decline."

"That's a silly mistake."

Claire was initially tempted to retort, but found herself unable to when suddenly, Lex had slinked over and again had his arms resting against the car door on either side of her and his face close to hers, his eyes lingering without discretion on her mouth. He needed, of course, to keep her on her toes. And if perhaps he got something he wanted in the process, it was more than good enough. But not yet, he decided. He smirked and, with a hand on Claire's waist, gently guided her out of the way and opened the car door for her. The expression of confusion on her face, he realized, meant that the tactic had worked - she had expected something to happen, and the fact that it hadn't, that he'd subverted her expectation, placed the ball in his court, precisely where he liked it.

"Back home, then?" he asked with a casual, lopsided grin, relishing the fact that he was so in control of the situation, the he'd caught her so off guard. "You look a little flushed, Claire. I wouldn't dream of letting you drive home in this condition. Stay in the guest suite tonight - no funny business. I insist."

And in her confusion, this time, she did not refuse. She got into the car, stunned. Lex Luthor, she realized, had gotten into her head. There was a reason that people compartmentalized their work and personal lives, and because she'd forgotten to do so, she chided herself harshly, she was in this position.

"I've got my sights set on you, Claire," Lex said in a calm, cryptic tone once they were finally on their way back to the manor, while Claire was for once speechless, barely able to even process what had just happened. "You are my most valuable ally."


	11. Chapter 11

Arthur Curry felt great apprehension now that he found that his favor to Diana involved him so much more deeply in the affairs of people on land.

"Why couldn't Mister Wayne accompany you?" he asked with disdain, uncomfortably adjusting the collar of his shirt. Central City, far inland, miles away from the sea, was the last place he thought his partnership with Diana Prince and Bruce Wayne would bring him, and yet here he was.

"Neither Bruce Wayne nor Batman has the luxury of anonymity," Diana replied, wrapping her long coat more tightly around her as they walked down the street towards Central City's municipal center, where the forensics department of the Police Department had temporarily located to a basement room of the courthouse. "We need to find Mister Allen and convince him to join us."

"To join and and Mister Wayne. Like you convinced me," Arthur said, crossing his arms over himself as he kept up with Diana's proud, buoyant strides. Diana, however, seemed focused intently on finding their destination rather than listening to anyone else, and this was precisely the way Arthur Curry remembered this woman - this _deity_. Diana Prince was the entire reason for his willingness to be part of whatever this was, because if she considered it a cause worth fighting for, he had no reason to doubt its worthiness. Even if he hated land, and cars, and roads, she was honorable enough that he was unwilling to go back on his word to assist her in any way he was able.

Diana and Arthur entered the main foyer of the courthouse - a modern building of glass and steel where the sun poured in from all sides - and walked toward the information desk.

"Excuse me," Diana said, gently leaning an arm on the counter to gain the attention of the older woman at the desk, who looked up at Diana through thick-rimmed glasses. "We're looking for a Mister Allen in the Forensics Unit?"

"You'll need to go through security like everyone else, sweetheart," the old woman said, gesturing toward the lines leading through the metal detectors. "You and your... rugged friend, here."

Diana couldn't suppress a slight smirk and a glance over her shoulder at very blatantly admiring comment directed towards Arthur, who looked visibly surprised. "Of course. Thank you, ma'am," Diana said with a gracious incline of her head. "Arthur -"

"SIR!"

The older woman behind the desk suddenly was distracted from them, getting to her feet and pointing a finger at a man who swept past the security desk with a large back slung over his shoulder. The man, dressed unseasonably in a large, heavy, fur-lined coat, pushed his way to the front of the line as the older woman hobbled in his direction. Immediately alerted that something was amiss, Arthur and Diana shared a glance before slinking off to one side behind a square support pillar in case their assistance in the situation was needed. Just as they were able to get into aan adequate hiding position, the man shrugged off the bag on his shoulder and brandished a weapon that neither of them had seen before - there was no time to wonder what its function was. The man fired off a few shots - but rather than drawing blood, encased the security guards and those in their immediate vicinity in a case of clear, solid ice.

"Bring me the Flash," he said with a snarl, but the chaos that now erupted drowned him out until he raised his weapon and froze yet another wave of bystanders trying to escape around him, but all were able-bodied men. The women and few children in the crowd, in their haste, were perhaps grazed but never the target of his fire. He then fired another long volley of shots at the revolving doors, freezing them solid so no one stood a chance of escaping. "No one leaves until the Flash faces me!"

The Flash was what the young man they sought called himself, Diana realized as her brow furrowed in thought as she quickly attempted to process the moment that was developing around them. So many instant people were in danger, trapped in the ice. Her hand shook as she reached inside of her coat to retrieve something, but Arthur's hand quickly closed around her wrist, shaking his head. "We don't need to intervene," he said in a low whisper. "This is not our fight -"

"If this is not your fight, then you are no better than Bruce," Diana said in a near-hiss, and before Arthur could speak any further advice against helping the humans against this attacker, she had cast aside her coat and now brandished her weapon - the Lasso of Truth - whirling it over her head before casting it to loop around the barrel of the man's weapon. With one hard yank, she disarmed him, sending the weapon skidding to the ground. The man in the large coat whirled to face her direction, and she drew herself up to full height, staring him down defiantly. With his teeth bared in a snarl, the man reached for another weapon holstered at his waist, but before he could brandish this in Diana's direction, a bright red blur and a rushing, whirring noise passed between them, and the man was knocked aside, his other weapons cast away out of his reach. Another bright red blur, and suddenly, a man in a red bodysuit with a mask that covered his face stopped in front of Diana, staring between her and the man in the parka. For only a millisecond, the glance was exchange - the speedster in the bright red suit, the Amazon in armor, the sea King trapped on land.

"Little help, guys?" the man in the suit said rapidly with a point glance at the lasso in her hand. Instantly catching the speedster's hint, Diana raised the lasso and whirled it over her head again, casting the loop over the man in the coat while again, the speedster seemed to disappear into a blur, darting around the room. Arthur, while his abilities were limited on land when separated from his weapons, still had his strength and made his way to the frozen doors. With a few mighty kicks, the ice that had encased the hinges had broken and the door was again able to move - as it did, they realized that the police had already arrived on the scene.

It seemed that the speedster generated a great deal of heat as well, and as the blur whizzed around the room, the people who had been hit with the beams of ice came unfrozen just as a rush of men in uniform flooded the scene. The first move was to apprehend the man in the parka, which freed up Diana and the lasso so that she could be the first to slip away, followed quickly by Arthur who had already been near the door. It was easy enough, as the police were more busy apprehending the suspect and tending to the victims to spare much thought on these vigilantes. Diana and Arthur slipped off to the nearest side alley, where Arthur handed Diana back her coat.

"I always come prepared," she said matter-of-factly, catching Arthur's expression of annoyance that she had intervened against his advice. The thoughts running through his head were clear - _I should've known better than to try and order an Amazon around_. "The one in red, he was the one we came to find -"

"Who are you?"

The blur again had appeared, joining them in the alleyway and staring back and forth between them. He hesitantly reached up and removed his mask, revealing his young face and raising his eyebrows questioningly.

"The question is, Barry Allen," Arthur spoke up first - the yooung man seemed to flinch at the fact that they knew his name, "who was that man in there?"

" _Cold_. He goes by Captain Cold," he said with a shrug. "I got him locked up a while back, he didn't appreciate it. Probably because she stole a loaf of bread to feed his starving sister and - no, wait," he chuckled, raising his hand for pause. "I read that last part in a book somewhere."

Diana and Arthur looked at one another with blank, slightly confused expressions, and Barry cleared his throat, grimacing.

"Tough crowd," he muttered, reaching up and scratching the back of his neck. "Listen, you haven't even answered my question. Where did you come from?"

"Do you remember the monster of Metropolis? Months ago?" Diana brought up gently. At this, Barry's shoulders drooped and his expression softened. He crossed his arms over himself.

"Of course I do. The one that... that killed Superman. The whole world knows about that," Barry replied. "It was _Superman_ ," he added feebly. "I couldn't believe it."

"There are more enemies drawing near. Enemies that are even worse than Doomsday," Diana explained, her expression growing grave. "And if we're going to stand a chance against them, we cannot do it alone -"

"Who is we?" Barry insisted. "I've never seen either of you in Central City before, what are you doing here? I'm the only one like me here."

"My name is Diana Prince. This is Arthur Curry," she said, raising a hand to placate Barry as she eased into her explanation. "We acquired intelligence from LexCorp's encrypted database, and he had been looking for us. For others like us. But now we need to come together on our own or there is no hope for anyone."

Barry exhalled in surprise. People were looking for him? They knew who he was? He barely knew who he was. By day, he was a junior forensice scientist who was always late and got everything wrong. By night, he was a vigilante in a red suit that fought petty crime in Central City. Now, all of a sudden, he was supposed to be some kind of hero and save the world from something worse than the monster that killed Superman?

Well, he though to himself, he had been antsy for a sense of purpose lately - and if he had been looking for some kind of a sign to point him towards it, this had to be what he was waiting for. After a moment's pause, he let out a breath and nodded. "What do you need me to do?" he asked. "I - I live here, in Central City, I can't just -"

"We just need you come with us to speak with someone. With Bruce Wayne," Diana said pointedly. "You'll be able to go about your life however you need to - but we need the assurance that when the time comes to fight, you will fight alongside us."

"Bruce Wayne?" Barry asked incredulously. He realized that perhaps he should have been more outraged at the idea of _fighting_ alongside these strangers - a woman who wore armor under a trenchcoat and a man decked out in warrior tattoos. But... _Bruce Wayne_! What would a bigshot like that from Gotham want from a small-town wannabe forensic scientist from Central City?

"The Bruce Wayne? Millionaire playboy Bruce Wayne? Is he going to send a private jet or something? Because I would be so down for that," he laughed in disbelief, shaking his head and again scratching the back of his neck. Barry could hardly wrap his head around the idea that he was being asked to be some kind of hero. "Wow. _Wow._ "

"We've got a long drive ahead of us, Mister Allen," Arthur said, gently scratching at his chin and rolling his shoulders. Diana could tell that he was growing tired of being so far inland and as such, humored him by not interrupting. "It's a long way back to Gotham and I don't think dawdling is helping us any."

"Well," Barry said, looking down at himself with a slight chuckle. "I can't go on a roadtrip in this get-up. I live at twelve-oh-one Fairchild Road. Meet me in front of my apartment in ten?" he asked. "And - I call shotgun."

And in another blur and a rush of air, he was gone again. Arthur let out a small groan and glanced at Diana with an irked eyebrow, shaking his head.

"I know," Diana said begrudgingly, glancing off into the direction where the younger man had disappeared to. "He's going to need a lot of work."

* * *

Claire knew that this was as good as dipping your toe into a bear trap to see if it actually worked. She knew she could very well be walking into something she couldn't easily get herself out of - but the suggestion of going back to her apartment to pick up some of her things the morning after the dinner overlooking Metropolis Bay had come so quickly, refusing would have been suspicious in and of itself.

She was just going to have to cross her fingers that a certain vigilante wasn't waiting at her doorstep in broad daylight.

The previous night, Claire had agreed that she'd had a little too much wine and shouldn't drive home, and acquiesced to the suggestion of staying in the guest suite. True to his word, Lex had not initiated any funny business and had even offered to bring Claire to her shift at the clinic in Gotham the next morning, though she felt reasonably certain that he simply had other plans and needed a cover, as always. Now, they were at her dingy old apartment building, and Claire couldn't help but feel some level of shame for her living conditions, which were normal by downtown standards, but a far cry from the accommodations of Luthor Mansion.

But here Lex Luthor was, sitting on her couch, spreading out his arms and propping his feet up on her coffee table. He stretched and reached over for the remote control to her TV, turning on the screen and casually browsing through channels as though he lived here.

"Take your time," he said with a dismissive gesture that left Claire momentarily confused - she rolled her eyes gently before heading into the bedroom to pack a bag of things.

It came as a relief to confirm that no one else was around in the apartment. With the luck of the draw that she'd had in recent days, Claire would not have been surprised if she'd walked right into Batman sitting in her apartment waiting for her. For now, though, she had a reprieve. She started loading some of the easiest items into the overnight bag she kept in her closet - her scrubs, underwear, jeans, and the easier objects to pack. Shoes. Socks. Just the basics. After all, this certainly couldn't be a longterm solution. In time, she'd find her own way out of this - staying at Luthor Mansion was simply a short term fix until she was able to determine what that was.

She changed into a fresh pair of scrubs and ran a brush through her hair a few times before tying it back into a ponytail, so at least she looked a little less unkempt. And it hit her in that moment as she looked at herself in the mirror that for all intents and purposes, she was moving in with Lex Luthor. Her mother's nagging voice briefly crossed her mind - you make all the wrong decisions, Claire. Just think about your future, Claire. Don't end up like your father - you have to think things through!

Claire gave her head a hard shake as though she could dispel the thoughts and picked her bag up off of the ground, walking back out into the living room to find that Lex was no longer sitting on the couch - apparently having gotten bored, Lex had gotten up and found his way into her pantry and fished out the bag of Sour Patch Kids in her stash of study snacks and was now perusing the photos that lined her mantelpiece over the fireplace that didn't even work. By the looks of things, he'd already eaten at least a handful.

"Well, this one's just heartwarming. A real Kodak moment," Lex said, plucking one picture frame from the mantel as though he were holding it up for display. The photo was slightly faded, but still clearly showed a young Claire of about five or six years old, dressed in a cowgirl outfit while her father carried her on his shoulders. Her mother, she remembered, had been the one who took the picture. They had been a family. Life had been _different_ then. Lex glanced down at the photograph with an emotion that for once, Claire was not sure she could identify. His brow furrowed, but his expression betrayed neither anger nor contempt. There was, perhaps, a child-like confusion to his face.

"You put him on a pedestal, don't you? Your father, I mean?" Lex said, turning the photo towards him so he could look at it more closely, and Claire felt eerily chilled by this new line of questioning. "Surely he couldn't have been as perfect as -"

"My father was far from a perfect man, but he was a good father," Claire interrupted quickly, walking over and gently taking the picture out of Lex's hands, but instead of placing it back over the fireplace, she tucked it away into the bag she had packed. "He did one extraordinarily good thing in his life and he paid dearly for it. We paid dearly for it," she added before shaking her head. "But he was a good father."

An imperfect man but a good father. The concept admittedly confused Lex - his father had been, by anyone's standards, a superlatively good man. He was a philanthropist, a business who put Metropolis to work and made it the shining city on a hill that it had always aspired to be. Lex Luthor Senior had been Metropolis's first hero, before there had been a Superman. Lex Luthor Sr. had been a very good, near-perfect man, by unanimous decision, but what he was as a father made Lex's hands curl into fists at his sides.

"Are you alright?"

The question was what aagain yanked Lex back to Earth the way Claire had a way of doing. She was asking him if he was alright? The confusion that accompanied the realization again disarmed him, and he felt his fists relax again. He raised the bag of candies and gave it a shake, hunting around for the one he'd be most satisfied by. "I'm just spectacular, Claire," he said, disarmingly convincing as he managed to fish out one of the blue candies. He popped it into his mouth and, as was his custom, licked his fingertips afterwards - it was a shame to waste, after all.

He held back an expression of glee at the realization that now, Claire had been the one who couldn't help but stare - it had not even been an intentional action, and yet it had played perfectly into his plans for her.

"That's enough dawdling, I think," Lex pointed out, giving the top of the bag of candies an overdramatic twist to seal it, and then pocketing it altogether. "If we're going to get you to Gotham in rush hour traffic, then we are on a tight schedule."

"You really didn't have to do this, you know," Claire piped in hesitantly, though she had to move quickly as Lex was already making a beeline for the front door. She hurried along behind him and locked the door, following him down the hallway towards the elevator. "I could've driven myself, you have an appointment with Doctor Cavendish this afternoon -"

"I can move it if I need to," Lex said, impatiently tapping at the button for the elevator, though his nonchalance gained a roll of Claire's eyes. Just as the elevator doors slid open and he placed his hand on the side of the door to let Claire through first, he added, "I'll let him know that I had to prioritize someone far more important."

Claire turned around with every intention to ask what that was supposed to mean as the elevator doors closed, but before she could do so, Lex had almost stealthily closed the space between them and without warning, finally followed through on his actions from the night before, pressing his lips hungrily to hers.

In her surprise, Claire lost her grip on her overnight bag and allowed it to drop with a gentle thud to the ground. Lex slowly but authoritatively guided her backwards so her back was against the wall, bracing himself against it with one forearm while the other arm snaked around her waist. He smirked against her lips at the realization that she was reciprocating, her hands grazing over his chest before crossing at the wrists behind his neck. Gaining a burst of audacity from her receptiveness, he slightly relaxed the arm supporting his weight so that his body gently pressed against hers, slightly holding her against the wall. In response, he felt her body give an involuntary roll underneath him that caused him to inhale sharply - the sudden tensing of his own body caused his teeth to graze gently against her lower lip, just as the sound of a small chime signaled the elevator coming to a stop.

"Looks like this is our floor," Lex smirked, pulling back and straightening out the front of his shirt, proudly regarding the flush in her cheeks as he separated from her. He gave a brief staccato of a laugh and reached out to pick Claire's bag up from the ground for her before casually turning on his heel and leaving the elevator. Claire took a brief moment to process what had just happened, rubbing her lips together and tasting the lingering trace of sugar from Lex's lips - proof that she hadn't imagined what had happened just now. She shook her head to regain her bearings before hurrying out of the elevator before the doors closed on her.

Lex admittedly was slightly amused by how flustered Claire was as they got back into the car - she kept her gaze directly forward, never looking at him as they made their way down the highway to Metropolis. He relished the idea that it would be in the back of her mind, distracting her all day. He would be on her mind the entire day. But even more deeply, he had a sense of uncertainty. It was meant as a power play - as a means of showing he could get into her head, because it was what he needed to do. She had seen him vulnerable, and he simply could not stop until the tables were turned - until he was the one in the position of seeing her more vulnerable. But even more than this, he admitted to himself that he would not have bothered with it in quite this way if there wasn't something about her that he very much wanted to keep for his own.


	12. Chapter 12

Whatever _that_ had been in the elevator, Claire was determined not to let it get under her skin. If she could get it out of her head long enough, it would perhaps set things straight. Make them _normal_ again.

But, she thought as she got out of the car wordlessly in front of the Wayne Memorial Clinic, it wasn't so much that he had kissed her at all. She knew that Lex Luthor often did things for no other reason than the fact that he enjoyed seeing people squirm, and indeed, he had succeeded in eliciting a significant amount of squirming. The fact that he had kissed her was trivial compared to another much more confusing fact: she had kissed him back. It was a constellation of several things that on their own were hardly anything - having Lex Luthor fall asleep next to her after his nightmare in the study, almost expecting him to try to kiss her the night before, agreeing to stay the night in the guest suite again. Now, actually returning the kiss when it _did_ come was just the final nail in the coffin, burying Claire with a conclusion that she wasn't sure she could accept. The fact that she had been _complacent_ was the most incriminating piece.

For one thing, it was inherently wrong. He was a patient and she was a nurse and no matter which way you spun it, it simply was wrong. And yet, things were muddied by the fact that first of all, she was only his nurse in this context because she was being strong-armed into it, and second, the likelihood of being punished in any way was slim to none.

Claire was clearly distracted yet again when she walked into the clinic, again straightening out her ponytail and hoping to sneak by unnoticed and simply begin reviewing patient files for the day. When she looked up at the front desk of the clinic, however, she saw that it wasn't only Dr. Thompkins there.

Bruce Wayne was here, and as he looked out the door, he also saw Lex Luthor's car drive off.

"Mister Wayne?" Claire asked, suddenly feeling extremely skittish that the owner of the clinic happened to be here today of all days, when she was doing far from her best. It was bad enough that Claire had been photographed in more than mildly compromising situations with Lex Luthor - now to be dropped off by him right in front of the clinic, witnessed by Bruce Wayne who Claire held in the utmost awe and admiration, made her want to simply be struck by lightning on the spot as though the kiss in the elevator was now somehow emblazoned on her like a scarlet letter. _Please don't ask_ , she thought. _Please don't ask..._

"Just discussing some new business plans with Doctor Thompkins," he said with disarming calm, coming around the desk and reaching out to shake Claire's hand. Claire felt slightly squeamish at the fact that Dr. Thompkins shot her a gentle, knowing smile before going into the back supply room to allow Bruce to speak with her. Bruce Wayne could read Claire easily - she was awestruck by him, and this was something he needed very much to maintain. "And of course, to check up on the clinic. It's been much longer than it should've been since I've been by, but you know how it is - when you know you've left things in good hands, you get a little complacent. But I'm glad I ran into you, Miss Branigan."

"You are?"

Bruce chuckled evenly, shaking his head at her surprise. "Don't sound so shocked. You have a great deal of potential, Leslie's told me all about you - but that's not what I wanted to talk to you about at the moment."

"Could I -" Claire began, glancing over at the desk at the stack of charts, giving a slightly apologetic expression.

"Oh, yes, by all means. We can walk and talk," Bruce said nonchalantly. There was an ease about him, Claire decided as she walked past him and towards the desk laden with files, that made her feel like she knew him better than she did, like she'd interacted with him more than she remembered. "But I think I mentioned to you that I invited Mister Luthor to Dr. Thompkin's celebration dinner at Wayne Manor? My butler tells me we've yet to receive an RSVP from him."

"If you want me to talk him into going, I'll see what I can do. I can't promise anything, though. I'm a nurse, not a probation officer," Claire chuckled as she began thumbing through the first chart on the pile - and as she browsed the front page of the chart, her brow furrowed into a frown.

"Problem?"

"This little guy's from Metropolis," Claire said, looking visibly distraught by this fact. flipping through more pages of the chart with her expression growing more and more perturbed at the fact that presumably, she saw nothing to assuage her concerns. "And his mother is bringing him all the way out here to Gotham to come to the clinic?"

"That's actually part of what I wanted to speak with you about," Bruce added. "Part of the reason this celebration is so important is - now this doesn't leave this office just yet," Bruce backtracked, holding up his index finger. "But I've seen exactly what you're looking at right now - Metropolis kids not able to see any of the doctors in Metropolis. I get it. That's why I'm planning on opening a new Wayne Memorial Clinic location in the city -"

"In _Metropolis_?"

Bruce turned a more discerning eye towards Claire when she suddenly fidgeted, dropping the chart she was looking at and suddenly looking up at Bruce with a hopeful expression. It was exactly the response he was hoping for - he knew he'd been losing her, but this was, at the very least, creating insurance that he wouldn't lose her entirely in his operation. She was well aware that Dr. Thompkins was grooming her to take on a larger role, and the hope in her eyes truly stuck in Bruce's mind. For some reason or another, he imagined Diana's voice from the first day they met her. _She's a girl with dreams. She's innocent._ Her eyes, for the first time he had seen since he'd first met her, glinted with hope.

This was temporary, Bruce justified. Claire would have her dreams soon enough, and he would help her reach them - but their greater goals were priority. They had to be. He couldn't compromise the plan out of pity for her.

"So, just keep your schedule open," Bruce hinted. "Once you're a licensed practitioner, I might have some favors to ask of you. But - I have to be on my way. A few more sites to drop by. Please - _please_ see if you can get Mister Luthor to come on Saturday. I'll put the both of you on the guest list. Take care."

And he simply sauntered off in a manner that was vaguely reminiscent of only one other person Claire know, but with whom she would never have associated Bruce Wayne. In her mind, Bruce Wayne was the best kind of person - someone who represented honesty and opportunity and savvy. If helping him in any small way - even just getting Lex to attend this dinner that seemed so important to him - bettered her chances of getting closer to her dreams, then her decision went without saying.

"So, Bruce tried talking you into coming to the dinner on Saturday?" Dr. Thompkins asked as she returned to the front reception area, pulling on her white lab coat. "He sees a lot of potential in you, you know. When he brought up opening a Metropolis site for the clinic, you were the only name either of us put out on the table. He doesn't trust anyone else with the project as much as you, and neither do I."

"It's - it's an honor," Claire said, shaking her head incredulously and pointedly making sure to avoid making eye contact with Dr. Thompkins, instead opting to fix her gaze on the charts in front of her - she could already _feel_ Dr. Thompkin's gaze, already knew what the implication behind it was. She didn't need to see it to know it. "I'm not sure I could do something like that just yet."

"Because you think you can't, or because your current obligations are standing in your way?" Dr. Thompkins asked knowingly, but, because she knew too that it was a question that Claire would by no means be willing to answer, she also immediately redirected the conversation. "We might be a little overbooked today. I hope you're ready."

Claire gave a small grin at this, finally looking up at Doctor Thompkins - the doctor seemed pleased by the determined, almost smug expression on the younger woman's face. Busy, Claire could do. Busy would keep her mind off of what happened in that damn elevator.

"Let's get to work."

* * *

Barry had seen this interaction going much differently - one didn't exactly get invited to join a team of superheroes on a daily basis, and he'd figured there'd be a little less sitting around, a little more pomp and circumstance. It had been a drive to a private airstrip operated by Wayne Enterprises, a flight, and another drive to Gotham City. While Wayne Manor was every ounce of old money and ornate glory that Barry had expected from someone like the renowned Bruce Wayne, this was perhaps the last explanation of his that was met.

They were met by a greying butler by the name of Alfred who showed them to the foyer and said that Master Wayne would return at any moment, and when he did, the introductions were sparse.

"You must be the speedster we've been looking for," Bruce said, reaching out to shake Barry's hand. "Bruce Wayne."

"Yeah, I know," Barry said with a slightly starstruck, boyish grin, his gaze fixated on the fact that he was shaking hands with one of the richest men on the East Coast. Him. Barry Allen, the screw up junior forensic scientist. Shaking hands Bruce Wayne. "But I've gotta tell ya, I don't really understand why I'm here - or why you of all people want me here. I mean, you've got plenty of your own stuff going on. Do you have time to... manage a team of superheroes?"

"I'm going to have to make time," Bruce said, raising his eyebrows and sending a pointed glance in Diana's direction at the realization that this young man talked a lot, probably more than the other three inhabitants of the room _combined_. "It comes with the territory now. I'm Batman."

"Yeah, and I'm the King of Spain."

Barry couldn't help but throw in the retort, chuckling and feeling quite proud of himself until he realized that he was the only one laughing. His guffaws faded awkwardly and slowly while he crossed his arms over himself, glancing around among the others in the room who merely looked at him blankly. They weren't joking. They were serious.

Bruce Wayne _was_ Batman.

"Wow," Barry said, scratching the back of his neck and now chuckling in evident discomfort with the fact that he'd known them all for a very short time, had only just accepted their invitation to be part of this team, and had already made a fool out of himself. "Whoever said you can't have it all clearly never met Bruce Wayne, then."

He could tell he had blown it, even just a little bit, by the fact that the three others had excused themselves briefly and asked him to wait for them to come back for him. Important business. Delicate information. Barry Allen was familiar with hearing those triter euphemisms for, 'stay out of the way, kid', and quite frankly, he'd had it up to his ears by now. Barry Allen was not about to let it start here too, not when they'd clearly hand-picked him because they saw something in him. He was the fastest man alive, and being so fast, there was no excuse for him to be left behind in the dark. Giving the three a brief head start, he managed to zigzag through the corridors behind them undetected to a door down a long corridor. And to an elevator. And another corridor.

He hadn't realized that Wayne Manor was very much like an iceberg - much of its mass lay below the surface.

"You're sure about him?" Bruce asked, crossing his arms - Barry heard him speaking from around the corner and tucked himself close to the wall in order to listen the conversation that had so sorely needed to be conducted in private that they'd literally taken it underground. "We're not talking stopping bank robberies and helping old ladies cross the street - this is a matter of life and death for the entire world -"

"And you asked us to seek him out," Diana interrupted shortly. "Because we can't do this on our own. You can't do this on your own."

"What if Mister Wayne is right?" Arthur asked, his voice growing slightly hoarse - it was perhaps this tone of his voice that caused Diana's tone to soften, realizing that it had been a long time since Arthur had spent so long away from the sea and had yet to regain his bearings so far into dry land. "Maybe he's too young. Not ready."

"I'm not ready for whatever it is we may be facing, so I assure you, age is not an issue," Diana corrected. "We don't need to turn anyone away from our team who has the skills and the desire to help. I told him what we were doing, he wants to help."

"Alright. Fine," Bruce said in exasperation. His was laced with a tiredness and, perhaps, a fear - he knew firsthand what happened when you brought in someone young, someone headstrong, and failed to protect them. It had been one of his many failures as Batman, and he was hesitant to place himself in a position to repeat it. He preferred working alone because he wasn't getting any younger - he didn't know if he could take the burden of another ally harmed because of his failure to protect them. "But we need to find the last one. The last meta-"

There was a crisp, palpable silence as Bruce cut himself off from finishing the word, and inside the room, the sudden discretion in his choice of words caught even Diana Prince by surprise. Bruce had learned something after all - and perhaps learned it even more quickly than she'd expected he would. He wasn't hunting for metahumans. He was looking for allies. For _friends_.

"The man from the last piece of footage in Luthor's archives," Bruce finished finally, his voice now holding a tone of fatigue and defeat. "We need to find him."

"Well, maybe I could help, then."

There was a shared look of tension among the three when Barry peered around the corner and revealed himself rather nonchalantly, crossing his arms over his chest. "Investigations are part of my job, and you said it yourself, I want to help," he said. "As awesome as your butler is, Mister Wayne, I don't appreciate getting dragged nine hundred fifty miles from home just to have him offer me a glass of water while I sit and wait for you guys to finish up."

A small, cocksure grin crossed Barry's face - he knew that many times, his fast talking only worked because he had a tendency of overloading people so thoroughly with so many words in a short span of time that they conceded just to get him to stop. There were times that he felt he should have exercised discretion. This was not one of those times when he felt so inclined.

"Can I at least see?" Barry asked. "Let me take a crack at it. _C'mon_."

Bruce was clearly exasperated with him, but wordlessly strode over to the control panel of the large computer whose monitor practically spanned an entire wall, navigating through the familiar folders he had gleaned from the LexCorp servers so many months ago - the video logs of the man who appeared to be performing some kind of tests on a younger man. And then, suddenly, when the date of the footage changed, and the man who called himself Doctor Silas Stone reported activating a mysterious object. The strange, almost scaly-textured box seemed to somehow connect with the younger man, almost appearing to create a his body again before Dr. Stone reached out to stop the recording and the screen cut to black.

"Doctor Stone, of course I know who he is. He was the keynote speaker at a conference at S.T.A.R. Labs. One of the best scientists in the place... before what happened to his wife and his son," Barry said, his face turning into a rare frown. "He resigned probably a week after his wife died. His son, Victor - I went to school with him," Barry added. "The hospitals all told him that there was nothing they could do, that all they had the means for was keeping him comfortable. Well, Doctor Stone wasn't about to accept that answer. So he took Victor home and said he'd figure out what could help his son. And that was it - never heard from them again since then."

"So you can't help -"

"But I know where we might be able to find Doctor Stone," Barry continued over Bruce's attempted dismissal. "Before everything happened, he would always joke about how if he had his way, he'd cash out and stay at his family's home in the Netherlands -"

"That's why no one's been able to get a trace on him in the country again," Diana spoke up, nodding in approval. "The Netherlands - thank you, Barry," she said, and immediately, Barry gulped. This statuesque, outstandingly gorgeous woman who happened to have superpowers was now smiling. At him. Literally perhaps the most attractive and simultaneously intimidating woman he had ever met was smiling at him. The action elicited a slight chuckle from her as she shook her head gently. "I believe this is what you would call a _lead_ , Bruce."

Bruce Wayne cleared his throat and took a few steps forward, regarding Barry still with skepticism, but much less harshly than before. He paused, and again reached his hand out to shake Barry's.

"Welcome to the team, Mister Allen."

"One problem," Arthur added skeptically, gesturing vaguely with his index finger. "We've narrowed the man's whereabouts down to one country. What now?"

"If he once worked at S.T.A.R. Labs, then there's a chance they have a cache of old employee data," Diana answered, gently raising her hand over her mouth in thought. "Barry, is that something you could -"

"Ten steps ahead of you," he interrupted with a broad grin. "I could probably get changed and run back right now to -"

"We don't need it done in that much of a hurry," Bruce spoke up after clearing his throat. "Take some time. Exercise a little discretion," he added. "We have a couple plans that need to be laid into place before we make our move trying to find Doctor Stone. A couple more pieces that need to be moved into place. Can you let your boss know that you have something very important to attend to until next week?" he asked. "I'm hosting something of a get-together. I'm expecting a very important guest and I want to ensure that he sees I've brought you all together."

"Bruce, are you sure that's wise?" Diana asked, her brows knitting in concern - she slowly stepped forward and reflexively placed her hand on his forearm as she spoke to him, which caused yet another salient pause between the two of them. Barry felt the brief urge to ask if something was going on between the two, but followed the advice exercising discretion.

"Mister Luthor should know that Wayne Enterprises has a new team of consultants, and I'm counting on Claire Branigan getting him here Saturday night." Bruce stated, his shoulders drawn back in a show of pride and determination in his decision. In the back of his mind, he was cognizant of the fact that his ability to make sure Claire Branigan moved as she needed to was greatly impacted by the fact that she respected _Bruce Wayne_ \- her feelings towards _Batman_ at this point were far less amiable.

"We didn't come together as a team for your personal vendetta against him, Bruce. I hope you remember that," Diana said, and her smooth lilt of a voice could not have cut more deeply - could not have struck Bruce with a deeper sense of inadequacy in the role he head taken on in leading them. He was not Superman. He did not stand for hope, for strength, for light - how could he _lead_ them? How had he ever believed so? Diana, however, pressed on. "The four of us are a team now. I can only hope that you understand what that means."

Bruce was simultaneously intrigued and outraged by the fact that something about Diana Prince was so disarming. The moment of pause gave way to more thought, and the more Bruce thought, the more he grudgingly accepted that Diana Prince perhaps knew far better than he what was needed in their mission - that perhaps having a few centuries on him had taught her a few things about life that he, weathered and wearied as he was, had not yet come across.

"How do you even know he'll come?" Arthur asked, bringing the conversation back to the present moment, back to the issue at hand of bringing drawing Lex Luthor to the event.

"Because," Bruce shrugged, allowing his mouth to quirk upward into a muted smirk. "I have a press conference in Metropolis in a couple of hours, and I have a feeling that Mister Luthor will be very interested in what I have to say."


	13. Chapter 13

Lois Lane had admittedly struggled to get back to work at the Daily Planet - to life before Clark Kent. While she loved her work enough to quickly find herself buried in it again, there was still a twinge of pain when she looked over towards the cubicle where Clark used to sit and see it still empty. A glance across the room found Jimmy Olsen's old desk empty as well. Both places, which were still untainted by dust, even if only because the custodians meticulously dusted, were otherwise unchanged from when they'd last been occupied, as though someone were expecting either of them to come back and get back to work. Even as a few new interns had been hired, they'd been placed in off-corners, rather than filling those two particular spots.

Perry, it would seem, was struggling with the loss too in his own way.

After a particularly long day, which needed to be followed with a night at home on her laptop working on copy of her latest story, Lois stopped by a local divey coffee shop in downtown Metropolis called the Rise and Grind, if only because it was a local establishment that was less college-hangout, more working professional. It was calmer, and that was something that Lois Lane would admit that she was occasionally entitled to.

When she entered the coffee shop and got into the line, which was a bit lengthy at the end of the work day, she found herself in line behind a woman in scrubs rifling through her work bag, pulling out her phone and looking at her phone. Lois paused when she realized that she recognized this woman's face - the nurse that had been photographed with Lex Luthor extensively in the past month.

Lois had attempted to insulate herself from news related to Lex Luthor, and Perry had been great about allowing her that space, assigning her to stories that would keep her far from anything with the name Luthor on it, but there had been a great deal of buzz about Luthor going free and having this woman with him at all times, something between a nurse and a new personal assistant. Even if work didn't throw the story in her face, tabloid and news shows were not nearly as kind, and Lois wondered what would possess a young woman to do what this one was doing.

She looked so regular, Lois said, unable to keep herself from looking at the girl. She looked so young, and at the same time, so tired.

Claire, as it turned out, was extremely tired. She'd had a long day at the clinic and managed to assert herself enough over the phone to Mister Luthor that she needed time to regroup, and she could travel just fine by cab. She'd hung up before he had the opportunity not to allow it, and now, for the first time in weeks, she felt truly alone - truly unwatched - and it had never felt better.

"Excuse me."

Claire paused at the sound of a woman's voice behind her and slowly turned around, hesitating and gently leaning away from the woman as best as she could while standing in line. The older woman offered her a smile that Claire attempted to return, but seeing that Claire was uncomfortable, the red-haired woman offered her hand gently to shake.

"Lois Lane," she said gently. "I'm sorry - I know this is probably incredibly intrusive, but I couldn't help but recognize you."

"Of course, I know who you are," Claire said cautiously, gently crossing her arms over herself after calmly shaking the red-haired woman's hand. "I'm a Metropolis girl, born and raised. It's a smaller world than one might think."

At this moment, the last person in line ahead of Claire moved out of the way and she made a polite, wave-like gesture to excuse herself before turning to the counter to place her order - a caramel latte, double shot of espresso.

"Can I get that for you?" Lois piped in, her arm jutting forward and offering a twenty-dollar bill to the cashier before Claire could refuse. "Do you have a few minutes to sit and talk?"

"...sure..."

Claire moved out of the way and allowed Lois to step forward and place her order - she stood awkwardly to one side to wait for the older woman, and then both stepped across the shop to wait for their drinks to be finished. There was no exchange, no conversation, just silence as they both waited for their drinks, collected them, then moved to sit at one of the smaller tables in the shop.

"Listen, before we start, I can't tell you anything," Claire said, gently raising her eyebrows and taking a drink from her mug. "I'm not interested in being a front page story, and I don't want to have a reason to dislike you."

"I'm not talking to you as a reporter," Lois corrected, which elicited a small scoff from Claire. Lois allowed herself a weak laugh as well - the idea of not being a reporter in any context was admittedly a bit of a stretch. She chalked up one point for the younger woman as they both took a sip from their drinks. However, even after this brief moment of levity, there was still the matter of who Claire was involved with. "Lex Luthor isn't a good man," Lois said quietly, her expression falling, and he saw Claire's immediate reaction - her body tensed, her grip on her cup tightened, her lips pursed as her jaw clenched.

Lois found herself grow suddenly worried for Claire as she realized that the younger woman was protective of him.

"You know that, don't you?" Lois asked gently, placing her mug down and gently leaning across the table. "I know it's none of my business and I have no right walking up to a stranger and telling them how to live their life but... here I am," Lois shrugged. "Why are you doing this?"

"Listen, Miss Lane," Claire said, gently holding her mug with both hands and resting her elbows on the table so that she was slightly hunched, leaning across the table towards her. "I can tell that you mean well, but your advice isn't helping me in my situation."

"Your situation?"

"I'm not where I am right now because I asked to be," Claire said simply, her face a strange mask of calm that even Lois Lane struggled to read - even Lois Lane, who prided herself in being able to pry any story out of anyone, was not sure what line of questioning to even pursue with the younger woman. Claire inhaled deeply through her nostrils and breathed out, clearly attempting to keep her tone and expression even. "I'm trying to do as close as I can to the right thing."

"Is Lex Luthor blackmailing you?" Lois asked, gently tilting her head to one side, her expression one of both worry and compassion for the younger woman. What if, Lois realized, Claire Branigan needed saving? "Is he -"

"Lex Luthor is the last thing I have to be afraid of right now," Claire said shortly, shifting so that while one hand still held the side of her mug, the other crossed over her midsection in an almost defensive gesture. "And I can't tell you anything else, Miss Lane. I'm sorry."

* * *

In some ways, this was very much a game to Lex Luthor - but he was of course wise enough and savvy enough to be aware of the fact that this was a critical period in his interactions with Claire Branigan. Despite all of his nonchalance, he was very much averse to the idea of losing her loyalty, because loyalty was so hard to come by. After a move as brazen as the one he'd made in the elevator, the next few interactions would bear disproportionate weight. She was in chaos now because of him, and in chaos came the opportunity to completely reorganize.

If he succeeded in establishing this new order in Claire Branigan's head - in her life - then he could ensure loyalty from her that he would not lose. And now, he was at the very least able to acknowledge that he did not want to lose her _loyalty_.

So, when Claire had let him know that she was going to catch a cab and grab herself a cup of coffee before getting herself home, he decided that the best course of action was to keep Claire on her toes. He knew that there was a downtown Metropolis coffee shop that she favored - the Rise and Grind. She showed up at the Mansion from time to time with coffee with the logo emblazoned on the little corrugated cardboard sleeve. So, he knew that this was a prime location to begin his search for her.

Despite being correct on the very first try, he would admit to being surprised by the fact that he did not find her alone.

Still concealed behind the dark windows of his car, he looked inside the window of the Rise and Grind to see Claire, still in her scrubs, sitting at a small table with one hand gripping her coffee mug and the other gently crossed over herself - Lex realized, glancing at her, that he'd never seen her look nearly this guarded and withdrawn around him. It was a sort of defensiveness that, admittedly, was unsurprising when one was seated across from ace reporter Lois Lane.

But more unsettling than how Claire looked like he was feeling was the fact that _Lois Lane_ was trying to engage one of his allies, and it was a feeling that was all too familiar. Lex looked on with slightly narrowed eyes as Lois left the coffee shop first and got into her own car, driving off into Metropolis traffic. Claire, however, was still sitting at the same small table, rubbing at her temples with her head slightly bowed. Whatever the interaction had been, it was one that did not appear entirely welcome.

Now was the time to pounce.

Lex, first putting on a pair of sunglasses, stepped out of his car, locking it with a flourish and striding through the rustic front door of the Rise and Grind. Claire was still evidently distracted giving him enough time to stride over to the table and pull up the chair across from her, turning it backwards and straddling it, leaning over the back of the chair and pulling off his shades, laying them gently on the table between them.

"So what's a nice girl like you doing in a place like this?"

Claire immediately looked up and gently rolled her eyes, shaking her head when she realized who was now at the table with her. "Jesus Christ," she muttered, rubbing a hand over her hair tiredly. "Don't sneak up on me like that."

"If you were more observant, maybe you wouldn't be so easy to sneak up on," he said, cocking his head to one side and regarding the expression on Claire's face - tired and indifferent. "But I wasn't about to let you take a cab home in peak Metropolis traffic. Have you smelled the back of a taxi at the end of a... long hard day of chauffering around sweaty tourists?"

"Have you?" she retorted with a quirk of her eyebrow.

"Touche." Lex reached over and gently removed Claire's mug from her hand and looked at what was left of the drink, swirling the contents before raising it to his lips and downing the remainder of drink. Caramel latte, double shot of espresso. "Well, it looks like you're done with your caffeine fix, so how about we hightail it home, missy?"

Claire blinked incredulously at the fact that he'd really just done what he had - but she couldn't muster the energy to feel surprised by it. She sighed heavily and got up from her seat - Lex quickly did the same, turning the chair back around and walking a few steps ahead of Claire, humming vaguely and reaching out to hold the door open for her, cognizant but nonreactive to the stares they were receiving. Claire, on the other hand, felt herself shrinking at the fact that every eye in the establishment seemed to be on them. Even if there were bound to be no consequences, this felt like consequence enough.

Lex went as far as to hold open the car door for her, and reminded her to watch her leg as he shut the door behind her. Finally, when Lex had gotten into the driver's side and closed the door behind him, Claire turned to face him with her expression set.

"This is getting ridiculous," Claire finally managed to speak up. "Last night - the elevator this morning - I don't even -"

"You don't think that maybe you're blowing things out of proportion?" Lex asked calmly as he pulled out of the parallel-parked spot and onto the road. He chuckled, casting a sidelong glance towards the passenger seat. "I'm not sure what you're so bent out of shape about -"

"Are you shitting me right now?" Claire interrupted in disbelief, now running both palms over the sides of her disheveled ponytail. Lex, however, didn't even honor her outburst with a reaction, instead making a somewhat exaggerated show of checking over his shoulder as he changed lanes. Claire again groaned, leaning back in her seat and shutting her eyes as she rubbed her temples. Her effort in going along with all of this and trying keep proximity to Lex Luthor was growing more and more dubious by the day, more and more tiring. In her fatigue, she had very nearly forgotten the favor that had been of her earlier in the day. "Mister Wayne dropped by the clinic today," Claire spoke up accepting defeat in their previous line of conversation, knowing she would never be able to call him on it without him getting the satisfaction of knowing how much it bothered her. "He wanted to know why you hadn't responded to his invitation for Saturday."

"Can't say I've had the time," Lex replied in a slightly sing-song voice, though Claire saw the brief tensing of the tendon in the side of his neck at the mention of Bruce Wayne. "I wasn't under the impression that it was incredibly important, nor was I under the impression that you and Mister Wayne were extremely chummy."

Lex's grip on the steering wheel tightened slightly, though luckily by now they had gotten past the heaviest of Metropolis traffic and started the uphill road towards the mansion - there were few cars around, so even if his driving grew jerky and slightly erratic from his vicegrip on the wheel, it wouldn't put them in so much danger. But perhaps more threatening was the brief realization that he was growing... possessive over her. First Lois Lane, then Bruce Wayne, both encroaching on his territory, circling his only ally like vultures.

"I'm not chummy with him," Claire answered shortly. "But that isn't any of your business, is it?"

Clearly now annoyed but not to the point of action, Claire reached over to one of the LED-illuminated knobs of the car's stereo system and flicked on the radio, anything for noise to fill the silence between them with something other than conversation.

_"And now, we're streaming live from the press conference of Mr. Bruce Wayne in front of the new Metropolis site of Wayne Enterprises, which is scheduled to open its new research and development center in the next week. Let's listen in."_

"Mister Wayne, what inspired your decision to resume operations in Metropolis?"

"You know, I think it's finally time," Bruce's voice rang out over the speakers of the car stereo, filling the inside of the car and causing Claire to again feel slightly uncomfortable as though this were all some kind of divine coincidence. "I think it's time to move away from the past and start over. It's time," he repeated.

"I'm sure you're aware that LexCorp is currently the largest job creator in Metropolis," the reporter chimed in, and a smile curled onto Lex's lips at the fact that he was mentioned - that he was again ever-present in all of Metropolis's workings. "And we as a city are well aware that Mister Luthor is committed to innovation and green technologies - what can Wayne Enterprises bring to Metropolis that we don't already have?"

"I don't intend to try and steal anything away from LexCorp, not by a long stretch - Wayne Enterprises is a completely different entity, and I don't foresee any conflict between our two companies unless Mister Luthor sees a reason for there to be," Bruce replied with confidence, and Claire felt herself shift into a cautious state of concern at the fact that Lex again tensed, his jaw clenching tightly as they pulled into the front driveway of the mansion. "One of my company's most well-loved projects in Gotham is the Thomas Wayne Memorial Free Clinic - a safe zone in one of the highest-crime blocks in the city. My executive board formed an exploratory panel earlier this years and found that there is no such low-cost clinic in Metropolis. LexCorp has made extensive, impressive forays into medical research and pharmaceutical research. Amazing work," Bruce repeated. Lex's lip curled slightly into a sneer, and he muttered under his breath, as Bruce Wayne continued speaking.

"Which is why Wayne Enterprises has also bought out the commercial space on the corner of First and Lincoln and will be opening a new site for the Wayne Memorial Free Clinic in the near future - because while technology will continue to leap forward, Wayne Enterprises is committed to not leaving people behind."

Lex made no pretense of hiding his hostility when over the speakers, he heard the crowd at the press conference burst into applause for Bruce Wayne - they were applauding Bruce Wayne for mocking him. Lex forcefully shut off the radio and got out of the car, storming towards the front door. The sight of him this way was the first thing the entire day to remove the thoughts of what happened in the elevator from her mind, now replaced with a stomach-churning sensation. Worry. Concern. Internally, she found it infuriating, but she knew that above all else, what he'd just heard was something that would send him on a downward spiral - while as an incognito emissary of Batman's, it was not her job to be concerned with such things, as Lex Luthor's nurse, it was. She got out of the car as well, following Lex up the front steps of the manor and striding in the door behind him.

"I don't suppose you knew anything about this, did you?" Lex asked before slowly turning around to face Claire, who had already shut the front door behind her and flinched in surprise to see him stalking purposefully in her direction until he stood toe-to-toe with her, leaving very little space between her back and the door. "About the new clinic opening in Metropolis? Him coming by to your workplace today, that was a - a fabulous coincidence?"

"I knew about the clinic," Claire said evenly, drawing herself up to full height and refusing to be cowed. "He mentioned it to me today. Said to consider working for him when it opened. I didn't agree to it. I don't know anything else."

There were a few seconds of electrifying, almost scalding eye contact between the pair of them, but nothing like the searing, sensual exchanges that in Claire's mind had started to become all too frequent. Now, the wheels in Lex's mind were turning furiously, so much so that Claire could have sworn that she felt the heat emanating from his eyes. He was afraid. He felt genuine fear at the prospect of the legacy he had only just started to rebuild in Metropolis being trampled under the feet of Bruce Wayne. But Claire's fearless honesty - the fact that she had come back at all to face him - seemed to shield her from being an object of his fear and anger by extension.

"So," Lex began, his eyes narrowing slightly and his voice taking on a menacing tone. He chuckled darkly, swiping his thumb across his lower lip and looking upward, taking a step back and beginning to pace back and forth - something about seeing him this way hearkened back to the night of the gala here at the mansion, the way Lex had been sent literally to the edge of his sanity at the thought of being bested, being humiliated. "So Mister Wayne wants to play hardball on my turf now. Gutsy move," he said, still pacing and turning his head to face Claire, gesturing with a wag of his index finger. "Let him know that we'll be at his little shindig. Five o'clock sharp. I'm excited to see what the hubbub is all about."

"Lex," Claire said - and she looked at him with that look again, the look that had started all of this in the first place. Lex's face again flickered with a look of confusion at the fact that after all of the effort he had put into unsettling her, in to legitimately scaring her, it was still that look. "You don't have to do this, Lex," she said gently. Her hand reached out and grabbed a gentle hold on his forearm, stopping him in his tracks the way only she seemed to be able to. "You don't need to show up just to prove something-"

"Yes, I do, Claire," he said, gently pulling his arm away from her and straightening out his clothes. He couldn't allow himself to be distracted by her compassion this time, not when something as vital to his entire being as his company was actually at stake. LexCorp could not come in second in Metropolis, especially not to Bruce Wayne. "I really think I do."

Claire sighed, shaking her head - but something about this exchange took on the function of a hard reset between the pair, throwing them back into the roles in which they had originated: Lex, the patient, and Claire, the caring nurse and the voice of reason. Lex drew himself back up to his full height and crossed his arms over himself. "You look like you've had a long day, though," he pointed out, noting Claire's rumpled scrubs and mussed hair. "Your things are in the guest suite. Make yourself at home."

And as he walked off, Claire paused with a need to process the fact that the tone in his voice had sounded nearly like concern.


	14. Chapter 14

"Ah. The belly of the beast," Lex said, clapping his hands together as he regarded Claire in the midst of all her odds and ends, getting ready for the party at Wayne Manor. "In romcoms, this is the point where the man usually starts to panic."

Lex considered it his right to move around as he pleased in his own home, and as such, felt no compulsion to knock before entering the guest suite, over to where Claire had situated herself in front of the bathroom mirror with an assortment of beauty products strewn before her. She looked into the mirror to see Lex over her shoulder. She bristled slightly at his sudden entrance, putting down the mascara wand she had just finished using and turning around to face him.

It was lucky that she was, at the very least, still clothed and not getting dressed yet - this strange arrangement of staying in the guest suite for the past couple of days with Lex coming and going as he pleased had resulted in a few near-misses, but so far nothing inherently embarrassing. Or incriminating. It was simply a relief not to go back to her apartment and have to worry about making excuses for herself just yet, though she knew that at some point it would be coming, and the comeuppance would perhaps not be something to look forward to.

The insinuation of a romantic comedy - of a romance of any kind, really - did not evade Claire's notice, but she ignored as she did all of the less-than-subtle messages Lex had continually dropped in the past couple of days. Instead, she tilted her head to one side, looking him over with an irked eyebrow.

"Shouldn't you be getting dressed too?" she asked. Lex reached into the back pocket of his jeans and brandished his phone, waving it gently in Claire's direction.

"I'm quite quick, unlike you," he said knowingly, glancing pointedly at the mountain of products that were apparently required in order for a woman to get ready for anything. "I'm waiting for an important phonecall. After this shindig at Wayne Manor, we're catching a jet. You and I have a date."

"A jet? A _date_?" Claire asked, her brow furrowing in confusion. "Lex, where are we -"

"There's a suite in Central City with our name on it, and a reservation for ten P.M. sharp at the nicest restaurant in town," he said with a knowing grin - but he clearly caught the suspicion in Claire's face at the mention of Central City. "Problem, my sweet?" he said in an almost condescending tone. "Paris and Venice and New York - all of them are so terribly cliche. _Terribly cliche_ ," he repeated, leaning a hand on the edge of counter so again, he was hovering over her, his eyes briefly roving over her face. "It would be an insult to you if I-"

"I think it's a little unnecessary to lie to me at this point, Lex," Claire interrupted with raised eyebrows - and Lex decided now that he very much preferred hearing his first name than his last when it came from her mouth. Mister Luthor had such a distinct _coldness_ to it, especially coming from her. Just the word _Lex_ rolling off of her tongue was melodic and warm and vulnerable. Emotive. _Real_. "If you have business in Central City, then far be it from me to stop you, but don't act like it isn't obvious."

Lex's first instinct was to pull back in response to having been called out, but only allowed himself a couple inches of retreat before he regained composure, again leaning in close to Claire's face and tilting his head to one side, reaching up with his free hand and gently tapping the center of her forehead with the tip of his index finger.

"I do like them clever."

He lingered for a few brief seconds in intense eye contact before pulling back, smoothing out the front of his shirt and relishing the fact that a brief blush had crept into Claire's cheeks. Whatever the game was between the two of them, he was clearly winning - because this was the way he liked her. Sharp, witty, but thrown off by him just enough that she was not completely in control. To Lex, she was perfect this way. The smirk remained plastered across his face as he turned on his heel to leave, pausing in the door way to casually add as he looked over his shoulder, "Wear the blue one. Definitely wear the blue one."

This was one of the few things that genuinely made Claire bristle. The blue one in question - a one-shouldered chiffon dress that draped loosely and fell to just above her knees - was laid out on the bed for the very reason that she had already chosen it, and yet now that Lex was directing her to do so as though he were the one in control of the decision was enough to make her change her mind.

She would most certainly _not_ be wearing the blue one. Once Lex had left the room, as petty perhaps as it was, she hung the red dress back up in the closet and instead pulled out a deep purple dress - again, lace, with sleeves, stopping on the no man's land of leg between tasteful and tempting.

However, when she made it out to the main foyer to meet Lex in order to get going, he simply smirked again and cocked his head to one side. After a few seconds of pause, Claire glanced him over and realized that he, too, was wearing a purplish shirt with his suit - royal purple, no tie. He gave a brief, slightly nasal laugh at the sight of her, crossing his arms and giving a smug, approving nod.

"I knew you'd pick that one."

He offered his arm tauntingly, knowing full well that he'd just flustered her and she would have no inclination to take his arm. Claire let out a small huff and strode past him, out the door towards the car. Lex knew that she found this power struggle infuriating, but firmly believed as well that she wouldn't be engaging in it at all if some part of her didn't find amusement from it as well.

A part of him actually _wanted_ her to be getting some amusement from it, because it improved his chances of keeping whatever this was up for a longer time.

The drive to Gotham City, out to the outskirts where Wayne Manor lay, was relatively uneventful. Claire took great pains to avoid looking at Lex, who seemed happy even to let her squirm in silence, knowing that the events of the past few days were still percolating between them even when they didn't speak. He spared a few approving glances in her direction when she opened her window just enough to let a small gust of air in, blowing her dark locks around her face. Knowing full well her role, however, when they pulled into the long driveway of Wayne Manor, she waited for Lex to come around to the passenger side and open the door for her, taking his arm.

She was growing more and more complacent with this - and here, even more than usual, because being the quiet object of gossip was better than being an active scandal, which was the inevitable end if she attempted to go against the facade that Lex was very much set upon. It simply wasn't worth it.

"Claire! Claire, you made it!"

Claire had to admit that she barely recognized Dr. Thompkins without her labcoat, without her hair tied back into a kempt bun. She was even more surprised when the older woman, who had evidently already had a glass of champagne or two, opted to lean in for a hug rather than shake Claire's hand. "And - Mister Luthor, a pleasure to have you," she added, still smiling, but far less energetic.

"Mister Luthor, this is Doctor Leslie Thompkins," Claire said politely, now starting to feel the weight of her two worlds colliding. "Doctor Thompkins -"

"Leslie, of course!" Lex said warmly, reaching out to heartily shake the woman's hand. " _Big fan_. Your work with the urban poor in Gotham is outstanding. Outstanding," Lex said with a wide grin. "Huge undertaking, taking on a second clinic in Metropolis though. Enormous. I can't imagine anyone pulling it off without the ability to be in two places at once."

"Oh, Mister Luthor - I have no intention of running two clinics. I'm close to retirement myself," she said with a laugh, waving her hand dismissively. However, despite Dr. Thompkins' calm reaction, Claire's body tensed, and Lex's eyes momentarily flitted in her direction. "We're still hoping that Claire will come onboard with us full-time soon, but it seems that she has... other priorities. I'm guessing that priority would be you, Mister Luthor."

Something about the statement seemed to throw Lex off, forced him to lose focus. He'd not thought a great deal about what Claire's interactions at the clinic must have been like, but he did realize that with his demands of her, other work clearly could not have her undivided attention.

He also knew that working the clinic was her dream - the dream she'd harbored ever since her father's passing. It was, as silly as he found it, her greatest ambition, and her response to being handed this dream on a silver platter, it appeared, had been only lukewarm. Because of him. He'd observed her compliance. He'd relished his control over her. But he hadn't realized that her compliance was very much a choice that she made of her own free will.

Doctor Thompkins, being a guest of honor, could not stay long with any individual group of guests and as such was soon whisked away when greeted by another attendee with whom neither Lex nor Claire were acquainted. With Claire still on his arm, Lex made his way into the main foyer of Wayne Manor - already, he found himself eyeing the home in distaste, even if only for the sheer fact that it belonged to Bruce Wayne and in Lex's mind, this entire event had been orchestrated to upstage him. Unconsciously, as Claire had her arm gently looped through his, he held her arm a little closer to him as though tightening his hold on her gave him some sense of security as he walked into a place he perceived as a lion's den. Claire immediately noted on his face the look of agitation, of paranoia. His eyes flitted around, as though expecting someone to sneak up on him.

"It's not too late to just go home," Claire said quietly, hardly audible and barely moving her mouth as she spoke, instead opting to lean in closer to his ear in what to the unaware bystander looked like an intimate gesture. "We don't need to be here if you -"

"We do, Claire. We absolutely do," Lex interrupted. Immediately, as he continued scanning the room, his eyes locked onto another figure, surrounded by people. Bruce Wayne - the master of the house. That was the man he was here to see.

"Excuse me," Bruce said, raising his hands and excusing himself from the guests he had been speaking to and immediately making his way through the crowd to where Lex and Claire were standing. " _Mister Luthor._ "

Claire noticed that when the two men shook hands in greeting, there was an unspoken hostility that Claire attributed merely to the fact that Mr. Wayne was encroaching upon Lex's territory in Metropolis. As businessmen. What more could it have been?

The sharp glare only died out of Bruce's eyes when he regarded Claire, relaxing his posture only slightly and reaching out to shake her hand. "And Miss Branigan, of course. I very much appreciate you bringing Mister Luthor out this evening - I was worried that we wouldn't be... graced with his presence."

"Wouldn't miss it for the world, Mister Wayne. Always been a fan of all of your... endeavors," Lex said with a vague smirk, his gaze flitting towards Bruce's hand closed around Claire's as though even this were an act to be suspicious of. "We won't be long, I'm afraid. I have a prior engagement elsewhere - just couldn't bear the thought of being expected and not making an appearance."

"Well, in that case, I'd like you to meet someone - one moment, excuse me." Bruce took a step back and glanced around the room until he managed to lock eyes with an individual lingering near the appetizer table - a young man with dark hair and a seemingly permanent toothy grin as he interacted with the others in the room while walking over. "This is Barry Allen. Central City Police," Bruce said, inviting the man into their midst to introduce him. Lex tensed at the sight of the man who was slightly younger than himself - likely about Claire's age. He'd seen him before - even though all he'd seen of him was a blurred piece of footage, Lex knew a face when he saw it. The metahuman from the convenience store.

Bruce Wayne had found him.

"I wanted the both of you to meet him - Mister Luthor, Miss Branigan," Bruce said, gesturing at each member of the pair in turn. "Part-time consultant for one of Wayne Enterprises' newest ventures. Barry's a forensic scientist with the Central City PD -"

" _Junior_ forensic scientist," Barry chuckled, scratching the back of his neck with one hand while he reached out to shake Claire's hand with the other with a frank, boyish grin spreading over his face. "In other words, the poor schmuck who picks up everyone else's coffee in the morning."

"Don't I know that struggle," Claire laughed - this was, Bruce realized as he looked on, one of the few times he had seen her beaming so openly and genuinely. What caught Bruce's eye even more was that the handshake lingered, just for a second or two of a smile and shared eye contact. Perfect. He had realized early on that Barry and Claire shared a lot of similarities - near the same age, the same desire to achieve and make a difference, very much the same dry sense of humor and often exhausting energy. "It's nice to meet you, Mister Allen."

"Yeah," Barry said, catching himself grinning perhaps a little too widely as he continued shaking the woman's hand. "Same, you too."

Those two seconds of contact did not evade Lex's notice either, as he made the slightest motion of bending his arm around Claire's waist the tiniest bit more so that she was pulled back closer to him, away from the upstart CSI from Central City. Barry shot Lex Luthor a look of slight confusion at the show of possessiveness over Claire, to which Lex responded with a smirk and a questioning tilt of his head that voice the unspoken question.

_Do you have a problem with it?_

Barry, for one, thought that Lex Luthor was _batshit crazy_. Did he genuinely think he was trying to flirt with a girl he'd just met, when said girl was still on the arm of another guy? He scoffed inwardly at the thought. Barry Allen had a girlfriend.

No, he corrected himself. Barry Allen had an ex-girlfriend, because when one disappeared so frequently to fight crime and did not disclose the fact that they were a crime fighter, they came off very much as an uncaring flake and a very bad boyfriend. Ex-girlfriend. His expression fell and his stomach sank at the thought of Iris, who deserved better. Much better.

"Everything okay?"

Claire's voice lilted gently as she looked at Barry with her brow furrowed slightly in concern, and only then did he realize that he had spaced out momentarily, just long enough for his silence to be noticed. He cleared his throat and laughed, waving his hand dismissively. "One two many glasses of champagne on an empty stomach. Sorry," he laughed nonchalantly, waving his hand in a dismissive gesture.

"Anyway," Bruce interrupted, taking a drink from his own champagne glass and shooting Lex a glance that suggested there would be something behind this casual conversation after all, "Mister Allen is just the newest addition to my... consultant team," Bruce pointed out with a smirk. "We're, how would you put it? Up to all sorts of no good?"

"Is that so?"

Claire tensed slightly when Lex plucked a champagne glass from the tray of one of the passing waiters and took a drink from it himself, but knew not to try and stop him from drinking it. She could handle him if the need arose.

"Very much so," Bruce continued, shifting his weight into a stance of comfortable authority, well aware of the control he now had over the situation. "I know they're around here somewhere. You might catch a few familiar faces, Mister Luthor."

And with a paranoid, sweeping scan of the room that took only a matter of seconds, Lex managed to point out immediately the faces he had seen before - the faces he had actively sought out before. Diana Prince. Arthur Curry. Claire felt the hand that Lex had on her lower back immediately tense, the pads of his fingertips digging gently into her side, then starting to fidget slightly, the very early signs that the situation he was in was beginning to gravely agitate him. The room was far too crowded for Claire to even begin to piece together what Lex was reacting to, what was bothering him so deeply - she couldn't begin to hypothesize what about Bruce Wayne was so bad that it drove Lex clear to the brink of losing his mind, right here. His hand on her waist continued to shake slightly until she closed her hand slowly over it, giving it a slight squeeze.

"You know, I can't for the life of me remember the wine you were telling me I just _had_ to try. You remember, don't you?" Claire piped in immediately, turning slightly so she was facing Lex with his arm still draped around her waist. "You have to help me pick it out. I'm hopeless with these things," she said. Bruce Wayne could not help the brief flicker of disbelief at the sound of a coquettish, almost simpering laugh that came from Claire's mouth. She was playing dumb for him - for Lex Luthor. Slightly surprised as well but putting on the air of flattery, Lex chuckled, taking advantage of the opportunity to gently tug her closer so that her body slightly bumped against his.

"Can't say no to this lovely lady, I'm afraid. Who can refuse a face like that - _am I right_?" he said with a smirk in Bruce and Barry's direction, wanting it to be nothing less than certain that in spite of whatever Bruce Wayne had offered Claire, she was with him. "Excuse us, gentlemen."

As his posture gently relaxed, he started off with Claire towards the table lined with bottles of wine, muttering almost inaudibly, "...good save, Nurse Branigan."

Barry Allen turned to look at Bruce with a disbelieving expression, raising his eyebrows slightly. "So that's the nurse," he said, gently tilting his head to one side. "She looks really deep undercover."

"I don't think it's a cover anymore," Bruce said, his jaw tightening slightly as he realized his strategically placed pawn was now no longer moving completely in step with the plans he had laid. "She's in too deep. I need you to try and get her away from Luthor. Distract her. Get her alone. I'll find a way to try and get through to her."

"This is some real James Bond material, Mister Wayne," Barry said, raising his eyebrows gently. "I don't know about this."

_"Just do it."_

Barry held his hands up defensively and took a step back, mouthing, okay, okay. However, within fifteen minutes of their interaction, it appeared that Lex Luthor and Claire Branigan had already slipped away from the party.


	15. Chapter 15

Lex Luthor was not dim by any measure - he knew that Bruce Wayne had meant to make a statement. He knew that the unspoken warning was that the Bat of Gotham still intended to make good on the threat he'd made months ago while Lex was still in Metropolis State Pentitentiary: whatever you do, wherever you go, I will be watching you. It was a threat not to try anything, or risk retribution.

It was only now, in a private jet, cruising at over forty thousand feet, that Lex felt perhaps he had enough distance to shake the sense of being followed or watched. Perhaps it was that flying at such an altitude gave him a sense of godliness, of being above everything. Whatever the case, there was no bat here. Instead, there was just Claire, seated across from him in one of the cushioned seats and distracted by a book that she held up in front of her face.

And Lex made a small, vague noise as he recalled something else that had come up in their interactions at Wayne Manor which he had yet to address.

"You didn't mention that they'd all but offered the clinic in Metropolis to you."

Claire had been thumbing through an old copy of Alice's Adventures in Wonderland that was on the table between them and sipping at a glass of champagne when Lex spoke up, breaking the silence between them now that they were tens of thousands of feet above the ground. She blinked slightly before closing the book, placing it back down where she'd gotten it from.

"I didn't need to," she asked. "You brought it up on your own, we discussed this already."

"I asked if Bruce Wayne offered you a job, and if I recall, your answer was wonderfully noncommittal - excellent deflection, by the way. I'm sure you were a lawyer in another life," Lex rambled. "But that's beside the point. We discussed the offer of a job. Not an entire clinic. Not your little Florence Nightingale _dream come true_ clinic -"

"Wrong timing," Claire said shortly. "I... I don't need things handed to me just because I happen to know the right people."

"If that's your real reason, then it's not a very good one," Lex said. "And I know you're more clever than that, Claire."

"So what do you think my reasons are?"

Claire wasn't sure what had possessed her to ask this precise question in this precise way, but whatever the motivation had been, it brought about again a long, dense silence between them in which they stared at one another, almost in challenge. Lex, however, simply laughed and dismissed the question altogether.

"Far be it from me to try and read your mind, Miss Branigan. Now, about our plans for the evening," he said, leaning forward so that his forearms rested on the table. "I want to make sure that you and I are seen. We're going to have dinner. Go dancing. In short, we're going to make just enough of a spectacle of ourselves to garner the appropriate amount of attention. And then, we'll mosey on back to the penthouse..."

At this point, Lex's voice smoothly shifted to a lower octave and a slightly huskier, breathier tone. His fingers drummed gently on the cover of the book on the table, and he leaned in closer to Claire, a smirk turning up the corner of his lips. "And then, we'll allow the press to reach the obvious conclusion of what happens next. So, I'm going to need you to do a very good job of convincing them."

"Convincing them that...?" she asked, unconsciously leaning forward and mirroring Lex's posturing like a snake being charmed by a swami, lulled into a sense of security. At this, Lex let out a throaty chuckle which elicited a slight tingle in Claire's spine that she strove hard to conceal. Lex paused before replying, reaching out and gently brushing the back of his knuckles over Claire's cheek and again chuckling at the gulp that she was unable to restrain.

"That you _want_ me."

He lingered a moment longer, smirking openly before getting up from his seat and walking down the middle walkway of the body of the jet, leaving Claire again stunned and looking slightly dazed by the brief moment of contact.

"The point is to be seen," Lex continued, facing away from Claire and holding calmly onto the side of the seat to stabilize himself against the plane's slight shaking and swaying. "And being seen with you - well," he said with a smirk, turning again to face her and tilting his head to one side as he again gave her an approving once-over. "I don't think they'll expect you having anything but my undivided attention."

Claire noncommittally huffed before picking up the book again and obstructing her view of Lex Luthor. He could do a lot of things, but getting under her skin would not be one of them. She wouldn't allow it.

Ignoring Lex seemed to work for a short period of time - once the plane began its descent onto the private airstrip just outside of Central City, Claire admittedly had her eyes very tightly shut the entire way down, just because the landing was always her least favorite part of any plane ride. Upon reaching a stop, Lex got up from his seat and wordlessly nodded for her to follow onto the tarmac, where they were met by a car with a driver who loaded their night's worth of things into the back. Claire glanced around at the surroundings - just past sunset, growing steadily darker while the lights along the runway and of Central City glinted with determination.

"I told you," Lex said with a smug grin and a shrug of his shoulders as he opened the back door for her slide over into the back of the car. "I ensure that any friend of mine travels in style."

For someone who had grown up in a city as big as Metropolis, Lex observed that Claire was unusually fascinated by the city lights as the towncar drove through the heart of Central City. He couldn't understand that there was a difference between his Metropolis and hers - between uptown and downtown. Downtown Metropolis didn't glimmer and shine like the Metropolis Lex knew, and downtown Metropolis was the place she called home.

The car pulled up in front of a restaurant with deeply tinted windows and beaded curtains underneath a sign that read in ornate letters, Rodizio's Brazilian Steakhouse. Lex handed a tip through the partition to the driver and got out on the side nearest the sidewalk and leaned back in, offering his hand to assist Claire in getting out of the car. She stood, somewhat stunned by the city lights around them while Lex directed the driver to bring their things back to the hotel.

"Brazilian?" Claire asked curiously, looking up at the sign of the restaurant, then inside the windows to peer at the assortment of tables and the floor that was occupied with a handful of tango dancers while slow, almost hypnotically drawling music played from the inside.

"Yes, it's Brazilian," Lex repeated with a slight, teasing hint of condescension. "All the best things are."

Claire turned with a slight glare in Lex's direction to see him smirking at his own joke, but when she made to pull her arm away from his, he gripped it closer to his body. "Remember," he said in a slightly sing-song voice. "Keep to the plan. You never know who's watching."

Claire glanced around while they were led back to a table towards the back of the restaurant - not secluded or hidden, but set off. from the rest of the patrons. It was some relief, at least, that everyone here seemed well dressed, which meant that she was not over-dressed. It was easy to figure that the purpose was the opposite of privacy. The table was situated far from everyone, but easily visible. Sensing the reluctance emanating from her, Lex gave Claire's arm a slight squeeze before pulling her chair out for her and gently leaning forward so that his face was close to hers.  
"You're stuck with me for the evening," he said in a matter-of-fact near whisper. "But it doesn't mean you can't enjoy yourself."

"Mhmm."

"Give 'em a smile, won't you, dollface?" he added with a smirk. At the confused expression on Claire's face, he gave a discreet nod to one of the other tables, where a man in shades looked away only when Claire looked up briefly to glance in his direction. "It looks like they got a peek at the reservation list this evening. We have an audience."

"Lex, I don't think -"

"Claire," he interrupted pointedly, taking his own seat and leaning across the table to grasp her hands in his as though this were an extremely intimate conversation. "I'm not sure you understand the position I'm in. I'm not sure you understand who my father was -"

"I lived in Metropolis my whole life, of course I know who he was," Claire said coolly. "I don't see what that has to do with anything."

"It has _everything_ to do with everything," Lex replied rapidly, his voice showing a brief glimmer of agitation. Before he shut his eyes and drew a breath through his nose, regaining his composure. "I've always said, I will never be him. He will always be the first. The Lex behind the Corp. Even when it was my hands that rebuilt Metropolis from the ground up when it needed it the most, my father will always be the face of LexCorp," he rambled almost inexplicably. "High, mighty Alexander Luthor the first. Always with a beautiful woman on his arm. Strong. Stalwart," he recited, shaking his head. Claire noticed a slight movement in his face and realized he was forcing his lip against curling in disgust.

"All things that no one has ever seen me as being. Until you," he said, leaning further again into their conversation. "You're a beautiful woman, Claire. Smart. Exceptional. A real scrappy, Cinderella story type," he said with a smirk tugging at his features again. "Precisely the kind of woman a proper Luthor should be seen with. _I need you_."

Claire struggled to decide if she found the statement flattering or repulsive, and the tumultuous, warring responses seemed to manifest slightly on her face. However, she could not say that she didn't understand - she understood now better than ever that all of what was happening, in Lex's mind, had to happen because of what people believed the name Luthor to mean. So, for the time being, she followed Lex's advice - giving in to the momentum of the evening, because it wasn't as if she had anywhere else to go. And admittedly, as the night progressed, she grudgingly acknowledged that Lex had not lied when he said that he would ensure they hit Central City with style.

Having never eaten at a Brazilian restaurant before, Claire was distracted well enough by the fact that the food was served by men carrying around large cuts of meat still on the spit and carved it directly onto your plate. There was, Lex had to admit, an urchin-like charm to her, the way she showed no shame in the fact that she was an inner city, middle class Metropolis girl who had simply been dropped into a world she wasn't really a part of.

"By the way," Lex said, pulling his phone out from the pocket inside of his coat and flicking over the screen, navigating to a particular photograph before holding it out to Claire, whose eyes widened slightly at the sight of what was on the screen - an old photo of herself from when she had been in high school with her basketball team, her hair pulled back into two braids as they hoisted a large championship trophy into the air.

"Wouldn't have pegged you for the basketball type," Lex said with a smirk, putting the phone away before Claire could snatch it from his hands. "I dig up something new about you every day, and every day, you get more and more interesting. _Curiouser and curiouser._ "

Claire could admit to feeling a little conscious - a little unsettled - every time Lex's speech veered into the territory of tiny hints of Lewis Carroll, almost like some kind of taunting that he knew everything about her, down to the tattoo on her side. "I wasn't the _basketball type_ ," she responded. "My mom made sure after that season that I started focusing on more... _worthwhile_ things. Said that I shouldn't waste my time on childish games."

It took a few moments of silence for Lex to process the idea that perhaps Claire understood him better than he'd initially estimated.

"Saving a little something for later?" Lex piped in after a short while of enjoying their dinner, making a vague gesture in her direction. Claire blinked and hesitantly looked down at her own chest area where he had been pointing - she knew the implication, that she had somehow dropped food down her dress without knowing. Despite not recalling having done so, her brow knitted in concern and she excused herself to the restroom... just to be safe.

In her brief absence, Lex pulled his phone from his pocket and glanced at the time, then flicked to an unread text message that simply read: _everything proceeding as scheduled, quarter past one. You name the meeting place._

He gave a small, satisfied grin before tucking the phone away again. It was now that he caught sight again of the man in the shades across the room, who had pulled out his phone as well, which Lex quickly realized was equipped with a small lens attachment made for taking photos from a distance.

"There wasn't anything there, you -"

Claire had come storming out of the bathroom, her heels clicking on the wood floor, but Lex had not allowed her to finish her sentence before gently grabbing a hold of her wrist and giving a tug so that she stumbled and landed in his lap. He smirked wolfishly and draped his arm lazily over her thighs.

"Camera at three o'clock," he said, barely moving his lips, and Claire immediately understood why she was all of a sudden off of her feet and in his lap. He glanced at her, quirking and eyebrow and simply waiting until, with a brief purse of her lips in disdain, Claire leaned over, placing a hand on his chest and shifting her weight so that she was hovering over him, a few tendrils of her long, dark hair falling around them like a curtain.

"This isn't my job," she said, leaning over and whispering breathily in his ear.

"And yet, you're still doing it," Lex smirked in response, resting a hand on the small of her back. "Camera guy got his shot, all clear."

Claire allowed herself a moment to roll her eyes before straightening up and getting back to her feet, rounding the table and sitting down across from Lex again and urging herself not to react to the self-satisfied grin on his face as he glanced her over again.

They didn't linger a great deal longer at the restaurant after the meal was over, staying only a few minutes to stare at the others dancing tango on the dance floor. Claire had idly braided her hair off to one side as she watched, but had nothing to tie it off with, so it hung loosely over her shoulder. She got up from her seat only when Lex stood from his and offered his arm, so they walked out into the cool night.

"So," Lex began. "I can call the car, or we can walk. The hotel is about six blocks from here."

"I'm stuffed," Claire said honestly, gently pulling her arm of his hold once they were out of the scrutinizing gaze of the restaurant. "I could use the walk." And calmly, she took off down the sidewalk a few paces ahead of him, glancing around calmly. Lex couldn't help but note the way she seemed at such ease, walking down a downtown city street at night - as though she didn't feel like there was any danger at all. What she did seem to feel, however, was a chill as she wrapped her arms around herself and gently rubbed at the skin that was separated from the cool air only by a thin layer of purple lace sleeves.

Claire, who was glancing around distantly as they walked in silence, looked up in surprise when she felt a weight on her shoulders and realized that Lex had removed his jacket, placing it on her from behind.

"You never know who's watching," he explained, gently gesturing around them at the buildings that surrounded them, the almost endless cascading walls of windows and doors. "I wouldn't be much of a gentleman if I didn't offer the lady my coat, now, would I?"

Claire unknowingly wrapped herself a little more tightly in the jacket, admitting that it was indeed pleasantly warm. They took an abrupt pause, however, in front of an open-gated chain-link fence which seemed to lead to an empty lot. A glance around confirmed that it was in fact a basketball court, oddly sandwiched between two red brick apartment buildings. Left at the base of the far hoop was a red, white, and blue basketball. Immediately distracted, Lex scurried over and picked it up off of the ground before rapidly sending a chest pass in Claire's direction.

Quickly, reflexively, she caught the basketball with both hands, looking back at Lex with raised eyebrows.

"So you _are_ quick," he said with an amused, boyish grin - in that glimmer of a moment, Claire couldn't help but think that he reminded her a little bit of Peter Pan, a boy who for whatever reason had never completely grown out of games. "Let's see what you've got."

"Seriously? Right now?" Claire asked in disbelief, looking down at her clothes and her shoes and back up at Lex, wondering what he expected her to do. She certainly wasn't going to go barefoot on a downtown sidewalk. Lex merely shrugged as though he saw no issue at all.

"In case you're actually any good," he chuckled. "I'm a sore loser."

_"Cute."_

"Scared?"

But the second he asked it, Claire had already raised the ball and taken her shot from close to half court, where she'd stopped walking, and it passed through the net with a clean swish, bouncing a couple of times before rolling along the blacktop towards Lex, who stooped over to pick it up. This wasn't happening, Claire thought vaguely to herself. This day, this evening, all of it seemed preposterous. Attending a party with Lex Luthor, giggling about what kind of wine to choose, getting on a private jet to Central City, getting in a late-night game of hoops - none of it felt in anyway realistic, and yet, all of it was real.

"Fair enough," Lex said with a smirk. "Let's play, then."

Something about the use of a game felt strangely appropriate - because at its core, their entire connection been something of a game. It just happened that when it came to basketball, anyway, they were equally skilled. Claire, as it turned out, lived up to the history Lex had dug up on her. He had been the recipient of a few errant elbows to his ribs that hinted at the fact that she was indeed from _downtown_ Metropolis.

A short while later, the game was tied, eight all in a first to ten match when Claire managed to swat the ball from Lex's grasp, poising to take her own shot and win the game. However, as she was prepping for the layup, she felt an arm wrap around her waist and pick her up off the ground, gently spinning her around and stopping her at just the right point so that their faces were nearly touching... but not quite. Lex lingered there for a moment until Claire realized that he'd gotten the ball away from her, tucking it under his arm, but before she could move to get it back, he had turned and taken the last shot.

_Swish._

"That was a dirty trick," Claire said with a slightly sour expression which elicited a dry chuckle from Lex. "Rematch."

"I'm afraid the clock's a-ticking, milady," he said with a smirk, and immediately, he saw Claire's countenance change at the abrupt reminder that they were not here for this, no matter how convincing a show they were putting on. They were in Central City for business. Lex, however, saw little utility in leaving the evening on a sour note and conceded that there was in fact time to spare. It was only half past eleven. He could humor her a bit longer.

"The hotel's not far from here, and the bar should still be open," he said nonchalantly, silently relishing his victory upon seeing the surprised look on Claire's face. "Winner pays."


	16. Chapter 16

"No - no, we _have_ to play," Claire said, waving her hand dismissively. "I can't believe you've never played before. Mister! Excuse me!"

Claire was in the process of sweetly but somewhat loudly getting the attention of the bartender at the hotel bar after having already had a couple of shots. She had offhandedly mentioned that the last time she'd had more than one shot of Patron was back in college when she was living away from Metropolis, playing Never Have I Ever with some of her old roommates. It was another time, she explained, and she had been so excited to get out from under her mother's thumb that she'd gone the whole nine yards.

So that was where the tattoo came from, Lex was able to conclude - and he had a brief, fleeting moment of curiosity wherein he very much wanted to see the tattoo again.

When he'd offhandedly dropped the fact that he'd never played Never Have I Ever before, though, Claire - after two shots already - was unable to let it go and was now in the process of flagging down the bartender. As much as she was the level-headed voice of reason under normal circumstances, Lex quickly realized that a few drinks made her considerably more difficult to keep up with.

And here they were now at a hotel bar with a line of shotglasses in front of them, with Claire looking particularly pleased with herself - likely amused by the fact that she had gotten high, mighty entrepreneur Lex Luthor to indulge in something so _lowly_ as a frat drinking game.

"So this is how it works," Claire said with a bright grin on her face that left Lex with an unshakeable sense of unfamiliarity. He had never seen her smiling like this - certainly not with him.

No one had ever smiled like that just being with him. Lex Luthor had come to terms with the fact that he was an unsettling person, and had come to regard it as both an inevitability and an asset. Now, to have someone seem to actually be happy in his presence - because of it and not in spite of it - was foreign and unsettling itself.

"So first, I say," she drawled, looking upwards in thought and resting her elbow on the bar so she had an arm to hold up her head, "Never have I ever..."

"I don't want to play this game," Lex said abruptly. It wasn't that he wasn't familiar with the game - he hadn't been raised underneath a rock. It was that he never had people to play games with. It was that there were a great deal of things that he had never done. Claire's brow knitted questioningly, but she shrugged, seeming none too bothered.

"Fine," she said, reaching over and taking a shot herself. "Then we can just talk."

"We can talk about _you_ ," Lex suggested, glancing over at the shots almost hesitantly before reaching out to take one himself. This certainly wasn't something within his usual zone of comfort. He knew how to take a casual drink in the study - bourbon, neat like his father. But this casual, free, unrestrained kind of frivolity with someone close to his own age, performed with the intention of letting go of his meticulously maintained persona was a different beast entirely. "Didn't you say before that I knew nothing about you?"

"I was wrong," Claire said, rolling her eyes. "I get it, you know everything. Lex Luthor is all-knowing, all-seeing -"

"No, I think it was a perfectly valid observation. Perhaps I don't know what really matters about you, Claire," he said. Claire's expression fell, even through her inebriated haze, at the possible insinuation of the statement, but by the looks of it, there was no sense of suspicion or incrimination. "And if we're going to be working together for a long time, I think I should."

"Fine," Claire said yet again, grinning and shifting her weight on the barstool so that she was now facing him, leaning into their conversation with one hand resting on his leg. "Ask away."

"Tell me more about your mother," he said, tilting his head to one side and gently narrowing his eyes in scrutiny, testing what kind of response it would elicit from her. He saw her upper lip curl gently into a sneer as she gently pulled away from him, now resting her hands on either side of her own bar stool and crossing her legs.

"About my mother?" she scoffed, shaking her head in confusion. "Like how... how sometimes I still feel like I can hear her voice in my head? _What do you think you're doing, Claire? Stop being so childish, Claire. Don't you see how hard it is to be your mother, Claire? It's for your own good, Claire_ ," she rambled in a nasal, mocking, bitter tone. Lex's eyebrows jumped slightly in surprise at her sudden candor, but he made no move to stop her disclosures. This was what he wanted - to see that she was human - and yet he felt wholly unprepared for it. "That's why I left Metropolis - I couldn't wait to get away from her. I couldn't stand her anymore. That's why I wasn't around when my father got out..."

Her voice trailed off, and her expression turned to one of pain and guilt for a moment before she reached over for another full shotglass, downing it before she could be convinced otherwise.

"I left because being home with her was too hard for me," she shrugged, grimacing slightly at the burn of the alcohol down her throat, though after having had a few already, the sensation was very much diminished. "I guess the apple didn't fall so far from the tree after all. I'm not that different from her and that's what sucks. You try to get away from what you are, but it's already what you are and that's it," she said with a slicing motion of her hand and a fervent shake of her head. "This is you and you can't do anything about it. You're an _ant_. You're an ant walking around in the world just trying not to get stepped on, but in the end, you almost always do."

Lex couldn't help but feel that he'd never heard anything more true from anyone else's mouth. This side of Claire - this humanity, this weakness, this vulnerability - seemed only to cement his concept of her as somehow being a necessary part of his existence. Mercy Graves had been a good assistant - dutiful, well-trained, and efficient in nearly every situation. But Mercy had never created this sense of symbiosis, of existing on the same plane as him, as though she were some kind of vessel to contain his thoughts when they became too much for him. She, too, felt like an ant in a world that was filled with bigger beings - and she, like him, felt resentment towards her smallness.

But simultaneously came the realization that he was also on a tight timetable, and some things took priority. He had come to Central City for a specific reason, and that reason could not wait - especially not now, when Bruce Wayne was so far ahead of him.

"I think you're drunk," he said, leaning over and placing a hand on Claire's knee. "You need to go lie down."

"No," she said, and Lex couldn't restrain a note of laughter at the fact that her face, usually calm like still water, had twisted into a slight pout. Vaguely, it registered in her mind that this was not the first time Lex Luthor had appeared to actually show concern for her, and in her mind, concern was the only form of affection she genuinely understood. "I don't think so. I'm not ready to -"

"I think you are," he interrupted. "I definitely think you are."

And without further waiting for any sign of agreement, Lex got up from his seat and gently pulled her to her feet - she stumbled slightly and nearly toppled until Lex caught her as she fell. He smirked, cocking his head to one side. "See? Like you said earlier. Lex Luthor is all-seeing."

"Whatever."

She struggled to brace herself again on her own two feet, but Lex admittedly very much welcomed her leaning gently into him as they made their way to the elevator, all the way up to the penthouse suite, far above the rest of Central City.

Even in her stupor, Claire stared around their surroundings in disbelief, strolling right up to the large bay window that spanned nearly an entire wall, gently resting her hands on the glass. "This is crazy," she said with a quiet laugh to herself. "We're staying here?"

"That would explain why all of our things are here, yes," Lex pointed out. Claire turned around and saw that the overnight back she had packed was indeed situated in a corner by the coat closet. "We have breakfast in the morning, so I'd advise you get started on your beauty rest before I'm dragging a hung-over Cousin It to breakfast in the morning," Lex advised, taking the liberty of walking over to her bag and producing her sleeping clothes, handing them over to her.

She deftly got changed, slipping an old t-shirt over her dress and putting on the cotton shorts before tugging the dress off from the bottom. And, just as Lex expected, within minutes she had curled up on her side in bed and fallen asleep.

Once she was surely sound asleep and definitely snoring, Lex checked the time on his phone and slowly hit the button to dial the last saved number from his messages, waiting for the answer - it came midway through the second ring. Good. Lex was not fond of being kept waiting.

"Lubrano," he said in a low voice, making sure not to speak loudly enough that it would wake Claire. "Kitchen entrance of the Waterfront Hotel, as scheduled. Be there."

He ended the call and cast another glance to Claire, who was still asleep and completely oblivious, before walking over to his own bag and pulling out a tightly stuffed mailer envelope and slipping on his coat, tucking the mailer into his pocket. His eyes darted around furtively before he turned off the lights in the room and made for the door once again, gently shutting it behind him.

The slight sounds of the door, however, succeeding in doing what Lex's brief phone conversation had not. Claire gave a small, quiet groan, rolling onto her other side in the dark and glancing around the room which was only illuminated now by the city lights through the bay window. Her face shifted into a slight frown as she realized she was alone. Her mind vaguely registered that whatever the reason was for Lex's sudden absence was the ultimate reason they had come to Central City, and there was some vague inkling of disappointment, but she could spare no other reaction before once again succumbing to sleep.

Lex, meanwhile, was making his way out of the hotel, taking the elevator down only a few levels before exiting and moving to the back staircase that was generally only for staff or for emergency escape. Descending the rest of the way on foot, he made his way to the back exit and around the back alley to the kitchen door, standing under the single flickering light mounted on the outer wall, his hand resting on the envelope in the inner pocket of his coat.

When a figure turned the corner at the end of the alleyway, despite the fact that Lex was reaosnably certain who it was, he felt a strong pull of caution, of defensiveness - he only relaxed slightly at the visual confirmation that it was, in fact, Lubrano.

"You know what to do," Lex said simply, handing the mailer envelope to the tan-skinned Lubrano, who nodded and tucked the parcel away in his own pocket. "I want this to be clean. Seamless," Lex reminded him, grabbing a hold of Lubrano's wrist and making certain that he had eye contact to emphasize the fact that failure to comply would be unacceptable. "And make sure Mister Snart - _only_ Mister Snart - is informed that it came from me."

"Consider it done, Mister Luthor," Lubrano said in his accented tone, nodding in what almost resembled a bow - Lex couldn't say that he didn't enjoy the gesture a little bit.

"Good," he said with a Cheshire Cat grin. "And then you can get back to acquiring my Cote d'Ivoire shipment."

"And the matter of compensation?"

"Deposited in your account as we speak," Lex replied quickly. "Impatient, aren't we?"

"Just a matter of security," Lubrano said matter-of-factly. "I do good work, Mister Luthor. And it comes at a price."

"I'll keep that in mind," Lex said, grinning with a smile that did not reach his eyes - his gaze was steely and determined, like drills boring holes into the man in front of him. Lex Luthor was happy for pay handsomely for the goods and services he needed, but he had no patience when his associates became too greedy. It appeared that Lubrano had just entered these murky waters. "You may go."

Now divested of the goods he had handed off to Lubrano, who took off as quickly as he came, Lex started along the circuitous route back to the penthouse suite. He entered slowly and stealthily, relaxing as he found Claire still sleeping in the bed but having adjusted herself to take up a good amount of space. He smirked slightly to himself and slipped off his shoes and jacket before coming around to the other side of the bed. He first sat on the edge, then swung his legs onto the bed as well, turning his body to face Claire as she slept.

This encounter tonight with Lubrano had served as a reminder that trustworthy allies were hard to come by - that people came together out of utility and betrayed one another out of utility. Men were disloyal by their very nature, and Lex had structured his entire approach to the world on this tenet. Claire was one of the few people that he would admit did not seem to abide by these same rules, and for this, she was perhaps his most valuable asset.

He paused and stared for a short while, his face twisted into a pensive frown. He raised his hand and ran it over her hair with an uncharacteristic, feather-light touch. Lex was coming to see her as being so... vulnerable. So human. And moreover, these vulnerabilities were things he felt perhaps only he was privy to, as though her secrets were slowly becoming his as well, as though she were starting to belong to him.

If to Claire, caring meant concern and protectiveness, to Lex, it meant possession. Caring about someone was an obsession - a need to wholly have and own them. Control was one thing, and Lex was no stranger to being in control of others, but never had he experienced _having_ someone. Claire was, he realized, rapidly working her way towards being the first.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Contains some adult material/smut not included in FFN version for rating purposes.)

It was still dark when Claire felt the first inklings of wakefulness returning to her - without yet having opened her eyes, she remembered that in addition to the fact that she simply did not sleep in, she was also waking up in a different time zone. Reaching up to rub her eyes, she gave a small yawn, and still lying on her side facing the window, she started to stretch her arm with a quiet groan, only to find that it encountered something solid far sooner than she had anticipated.

"Good, you're up. You're taking up more than your half of the bed."

Immediately, Claire's eyes opened the rest of the way and she sat upright, turning to face Lex who had been lying on the bed next to her, his arms bent with fingers laced behind his head - despite the fact that he was complaining about the space she was taking up, it didn't appear as though he was uncomfortable at all. Claire noted with mild annoyance that he didn't even look tired and had likely been able to sleep just fine with the space he did have.

And then, perhaps slightly out of order, she realized with a slight widening of her eyes that she was in fact sharing a bed with Lex Luthor.

"Morning, sunshine," he said with a slight smirk, shifting and leaning slightly closer to Claire. "Somebody had a good night's sleep."

Claire rolled her eyes gently and swung her legs around to get out of bed, giving Lex ample room now to spread out and take up the remainder of the space. As she got up to walk across the room towards her overnight bag to rifle through for a change of clothes, Lex allotted himself a moment to glance appreciatively over the way a dingy old Metropolis Polytech t-shirt and cotton shorts hung off of her frame. As nicely as she cleaned up, this was a sight her most definitely could get used to as well if given the opportunity.

"So what's the plan for today?" Claire asked tiredly.

"Breakfast. Downstairs in five hours," Lex said matter-of-factly. "It's five in the morning. You should still be asleep and nursing a doozie of a hangover after last night."

"Well, I'm pretty resilient," she replied shortly, picking up her bag and planting it on the foot of the bed so she could more easily reach in, pulling out the change of clothes she had packed and laying it out as well. "This okay? Because I didn't bring anything else, so an answer in anything but the affirmative doesn't do us any good."

Lex sat up and eyed the skirt and chiffon blouse she'd put down on top of the duvet and wrinkled his nose in distaste. "You think you'd be wearing that if we'd just done what the reporters all think we did last night?" Lex asked, cocking his head to one side with no pretense of lasciviousness or seduction - perhaps because, even if he wouldn't admit as much, he had just woken up from having comfortably fallen asleep as well on the bed next to her upon returning to the penthouse suite and was in a rare state of functioning without pretense or forethought. "You don't have anything else?"

"How about I just wear the same dress from last night, for optimum trashiness?" Claire retorted in exasperation, snatching the clothes off of the bed and making it clear that her mind was made up - she was going to wear what she was going to wear, and was not receptive to arguments. She rolled her eyes again, making her way to the bathroom and shutting the door behind her. Turning on the shower and stepping inside, she realized that this was one of this first periods of time, however small, where she'd actually had a moment's peace.

Claire was beginning to wonder how much longer she could take being this unsettled by Lex Luthor - he appeared to be enjoying himself more and more, able to control her more and more as time passed. Now, after the gathering at Wayne Manor, Claire wasn't entirely sure she could handle this sort of double-life anymore, knowing that she would inevitably continue to be pulled back and forth. She knew that perhaps she had started taking her responsibility for Lex Luthor's stability and well-being a little too personal - and perhaps Lex had not been completely off the mark in his assessment that Claire needed to be needed a little too much.

He was aware of it. He was doing this on purpose. Claire leaned against the cool tile of the shower walls and gave a heaving sigh as a sense of cognizance dawned on her - the more Lex Luthor played these games with her, the more he yanked on her chain and acted so erratically, the more unstable he appeared. The more unstable he appeared, the more that little voice in Claire's mind reminded her - he needs you. What would happen to him without you?

It was ridiculous. It was backwards. The more he did things that she hated, the more he convinced her that she needed to stay. All of this, on top of the fact that a man now known for branding anyone who crossed him had directed Claire to stay and finish this job had buried her in this predicament. She would always be trapped between Batman and Lex Luthor, until whatever their quarrel was had ended - Batman, who wanted the intelligence on Lex Luthor to bring him to what he considered justice, and Lex, who cared about nothing and no one more than himself and who would do anything to meet his own ends. The sooner she could accept that, the sooner all of this would become easier. Being angry at either of them was useless.

But then, if it was just a matter of acceptance and playing along - if everything was business and nothing more - why had she felt a fleeting sense of actual happiness last night? Why had she felt like she perhaps wanted to be exactly where she was?

Claire finally stepped out of the shower after a good while, but despite having expected to feel better after a few minutes of privacy, she only found herself feeling worse. She dried off her hair and slipped in the clothes that she already knew Lex didn't approve of, and stepped back out into the suite, which was now brightened by the sun, visible through the window as it slowly rose over Central City.

Meanwhile, Lex was standing over the foot of the bed, looking down at the clothes he had laid out. He already looked dressed, Claire noted, and he had an untied tie draped over his neck, a look of clear agitation on his fate as his hands fidgeted with the ends.

"What are you doing?" Claire couldn't help but ask, automatically walking over and crossing her arms, glancing over the clothes Lex had laid out as though it would give her a more clear answer. She glanced him over as well, tilting her head gently. "I don't think I've ever seen you wear a tie before, come to think of it."

"I don't wear them."

"Then where'd that one come from?"

"The concierge."

"And why do you have it?"

"Because you're overdressed and it'd look out of place if I didn't," Lex snapped shortly, clenching his eyes shut momentarily in self-restraint as he shook his head. "So obviously -"

"Hold on," Claire interrupted in mild confusion. "You... you don't wear ties," she repeated, piecing together his agitation, his reactions, his anxiety in the situation. And the conclusion hit her so quickly that she puffed out whatever air resided in her chest. Tying a tie was something that a father taught his son to do. It wasn't only that Lex Luthor _didn't_ wear ties.

He didn't know _how_.

"Come here," Claire said, gesturing gently with her hand but not counting on Lex to do so. Instead, she walked over and, standing on her tiptoes in a flowing skirt and a light blouse looking almost like some kind of little ballerina in front of him, she began adjusting the tie around his neck.

The first sense of Lex's that seemed to awaken was the sense of smell - the scent of ginger and citrus from the hotel shampoo emanating from her still damp hair. His eyes caught sight of the way she bit her lower lip concentration while deftly tying the necktie.

And it was in this fleeting moment, looking down at the woman in front of him who was completely focused on the task at hand, that a thought crossed Lex's mind: she wasn't getting out of doing this for him. She was simply doing something for him - no transactions, no ultimatums, no expectations. The thoughts that had crossed his mind the previous night while he watched her sleep returned to his thoughts like a pervasive white noise that overtook whatever else was happening.

"What are you doing?" Lex asked, his voice taking on an unusual, child-like tone of confusion as he felt frozen in place, awkwardly trying to look down at Claire who was still focused on the task at hand.

"I've known how to tie an amazing Windsor knot since I was probably five. I used to do it for my dad all the time," she continued on, unaware of the fact that she was now rambling. "When I was tiny, my dad used to say I did it best because it was too hard for him to see it from his side - though I'm pretty sure he only said that to make me feel better about myself. Could you hold still?"

Lex usually might have humored Claire's anecdote with some kind of response, even a condescending one, if not for the fact that something about this interaction was to him, unlike any of their others. This wasn't her job, and this wasn't a show for the cameras. In all of its innocence and vulnerability - in all of its simplicity - this was Claire doing something for him without so much as a promise of personal gain, and despite being such a small act, this caused such great dissonance that he felt genuinely outside himself. This was something that seemed to overload Lex the more he tried to process it - she shook him terribly, but somehow did so in a way that he didn't feel fear. It wasn't the jarring anxiety that came with addressing a room of people who wanted to see him fail, but rather the apprehensive approach to one of the few who he had reason to believe did not.

On her part, Claire had perhaps gotten more from her moment of crisis and catharsis in the shower than she had let on. She had decided, at some point in those few minutes, that it was better to care, even if she didn't understand. It was her job to care, and she would let that conclusion take her where it needed to. She cared about him - in all of the dysfunction and ambiguity of their connection, she stayed because in a capacity she couldn't yet identify, she cared, and it was what it was.

Lex, on the other hand, reached a conclusion that was far more definitive. His hands, which for the past few moments had hung at his sides, now gently closed around Claire's wrists, pulling them away from their work on his necktie and lowering them so they were no longer in the way - and now, for the second time in their acquaintance, he closed the space between them and pressed his lips to hers.

This time, however, was not abrupt like the last time - it was not committed with the intent to startle or unsettle, which in and of itself was far outside of the behavior expected from Lex Luthor. This was not him cornering her against a car, or against the wall of an elevator like a predator cornering his prey. Instead, his movements were slow, perhaps even hesitant. He released his grip on Claire's wrists slowly, waiting to see if she would take the opportunity now to push him away. When she didn't recoil and instead reciprocated this time, he separated only enough to take a breath of air before kissing her again, his hands now resting on her cheeks and hers resting on his chest.

For a few moments, Lex was strangely contented to simply kiss her - to feel the warmth of her hands, the scent of her hair, the softness of her mouth on his. He considered himself somewhat of a prodigy of the senses - he was astute, he was sharp, and as such, his senses were often easily overwhelmed. But now, despite the fact that Claire's presence in this moment was a barrage on all of his senses, he felt a sense of ease. In an instant, however, he paused and felt his body tense as the realization of the immense vulnerability he was showing dawned upon him. He separated yet again, resting his forehead against hers with his hands still cupping her face.

"If you're going to walk away from me," he began, his expression a strange combination of desperation, questioning, and desire, "I'd suggest you do it now."

"Duly noted," Claire responded with a slight smirk. Now, fueled by the sudden shift in the energy, the change in the nature of their connection, however, Claire found her previous misgivings clouded over by the reasons behind why she had become so compliant - she had perhaps wanted this too. This time, it was Claire whose hands gently gripped at the front of Lex's shirt and tugged him closer, kissing him soundly. She found herself smiling when she realized that he was smiling against her lips, and when they again surfaced for air, Lex smirked and gently reached out, undoing the top button of Claire's chiffon blouse.

"When you got into the shower, we had five hours until breakfast," he said, gently tracing his finger over the smooth fabric and starting to undo the next button, feeling the gentle rise and fall of her chest. "Now, it's less."

"It's plenty," Claire replied with a shadow of a grin as well - and Lex had to admit, as gorgeous as he thought a little chaos looked on her, this expression suited her just as well. "Trust me."

And, Lex realized just before finally stopping the toying and starting to undo her blouse with both of his hands, kissing her again with all the energy he could muster, when she said to trust her... perhaps, the tiniest bit, he actually did. His hands fumbled slightly as he undid the rest of her blouse and with slightly shaking hands, gently peeled it back off of her shoulders, letting the shirt fall back onto the floor and running his hands over the now bare skin at the curve on either side of her neck. After Claire managed to reciprocate in kind, undoing the buttons of Lex's shirt and casting the garment aside, Lex shifted so that the backs of her knees bumped gently against the foot of the bed and gave way underneath her. He briefly roved his eyes over her body as she lay on the bed in front of him, and managed one last wolfish smirk before joining her in the bed.

She most definitely was his now.

His hands sought out the heat that emanated from her body as he laid on top of her, his hips pressed urgently against hers. His hand grasped at one of her thighs when she wrapped her legs around his waist and lifted her head and shoulders off the bed to meet his lips with great urgency, her teeth raking against his lower lip, the clean, citrusy smell of her hair feeling as though it were filling his lungs. Her hips ground needily against his, and Lex uttered a throaty noise, something akin to a growl - the small noise garnered a reaction, however, of Claire arching her back, lifting her upper half off of the bed with a small moan.

“Lex,” she murmured breathily, and Lex was again affirmed in the belief that that he most definitely enjoyed his name best when it came from her mouth. The pulling sensation at the pit of his stomach grew stronger, and the feeling of roaring white noise in his head had all but dissipated in the face of this very new, very unprecedented set of thoughts and sensations. He disentangled himself from Claire’s legs only enough to tug her skirt down over her hips, past her legs, and cast it away on the the floor.

Claire’s hands, which for the past few moments had simply been grasping at Lex’s shoulders, now roved down over his chest, his abdomen. He was unable to restrain an almost choked-sounding gasp when her fingernails raked over the skin just above the waistband of his pants and made fast work of undoing his belt.

After Lex had kicked his slacks off into the pile of discarded clothes on the floor by the bed and looked back at Claire - laying vulnerable, clad only in black underwear, her hair spread out on the bed underneath her. He recognized that with nakedness came vulnerability, and that he too was naked. There was a newness, like they were the first of something new, like Adam and Eve.

And the thought crossed his mind that Adam and Eve only lost Paradise because they were ashamed of their own nakedness. But, just as this thought reached him, Claire spoke up.

“I’ll go first,” she said with a tiny shadow of a smirk. She moved again, this time moving one of her arms and deftly undoing the clasp of her own bra, casting it aside and simultaneously wriggling underneath him to remove her panties so that for the first time, Lex had a complete view of every part of her. And he knew that she knew - he wouldn’t have laid himself bare first. Claire had taken the burden of vulnerability before him and laid herself before him. And damned if Lex wasn’t now determined to reward her handsomely for it.

Discarding his last piece of clothing, Lex almost whimpered at the feeling of relief when his already throbbing erection was free from the confines of his undergarments. He ran his hand over Claire’s bare body and over the warmth at the junction of her thighs, firmly tracing his index finger over the warm, wet slit.

And then, he hesitated. For a moment, the thoughts he was so accustomed to seemed to return, the inklings and warnings that this kind of closeness and vulnerability was dangerous, that he was letting himself begin down a risky slope. Sensing the sudden change in him, Claire shifted from underneath him, and now, as though he were the cobra and she the charmer, he allowed his body to shift in response to her movements without her uttering a word. She coaxed him so that now he was sitting on the bed, and she straddled him with her knees resting on the bed, her legs on either side of his hips. Again, she hovered over him, her hair almost like a curtain around them, and her hand rested on his cheek while both of his hands found their way to the curve of her waist.

“Let me,” she said in a throaty voice, leaning down and pressing her lips to Lex’s forehead.

He had, at times, considered sating himself with gold-digging bimbos that threw themselves at his feet - because it was easy, because he was _Lex Luthor_ and it was one of the few good things that came with his name. But, though perhaps it was frivolous, he had refrained because he had never considered it worthwhile to waste his time and energy. But this was lightyears from that, and he knew that much with absolute conviction, and it was something that frankly frightened him. He could control any situation - except for this one. He could not, and Claire knew as much. And instead of judging him, instead of throwing his inadequacies and his inexperience in his face, she took it upon herself. Because this was what she, too, wanted - and being wanted was perhaps, for Lex, the greatest revelation of the day.

The grip of both her hands on his shoulders and his hands just over her hipbones tightened as she gently lowered herself onto him, and her heat enveloped him, slowly taking in his entire length and making him involuntarily tilt his head back, groaning at the slow rise and fall of her hips. He began guiding her hips with his hands, urging her movements on. He attempted to deepen the contact, bucking his hips slightly into hers but finding that their current position limited in his movements.

And now, the urge to be in control returned. Lex let out a sound akin to a growl that reverberated in his chest, and he pulled her close to him, burying his face in the curve of her neck and grazing his teeth over the pale, delicate skin that resided there. Growing zealous at the sound of the shrill, high-pitched moan that escaped Claire’s lips as a result, he quickly reclaimed the control he craved, grabbing a hold of her thighs and shifting so that she was again laying on her back, and he pressed himself more deeply inside of her. Adjusting her legs so that they were wrapped again around his waist, he spent a few moments deep inside of her while bother of them rolled their hips hard against one another. She enveloped him. He filled her.

Finally, with another slight growl, Lex began to thrust in and out of her, finding that with each of his thrusts, her hips rose to meet him with equal urgency.

“Lex,” Claire managed to moan breathlessly yet again. “Please… don’t stop.”

Lex had never heard her sound so close to begging until this moment. This sense of being desired, needed, was intoxicating - and yet, somewhere in the back of his mind, it was more than that. The mutuality of this sense of need changed everything.

His thrusts deepened and quickened, and there were brief flashes of thoughts in his mind - that this was science and nature and all the things he valued because it made the world make sense. Every action had  a reaction, every ounce of energy went somewhere, was needed somewhere, and nothing was lost or wasted.

Claire’s breaths grew sharper and more rapid, and Lex could tell easily by her body that things had rapidly taken a turn - he could feel the warmth of her, tightening and pulsing around his entire length, and almost immediately, he was head for the very same turn. He clenched his teeth slightly, and as the tightness in his abdomen intensified with every movement, he moaned gently through his gritted teeth.

“Claire…”

The sound of her name from his lips spoken in that way seemed to be the revelation - the sounding of the final trumpet - and from inside of her, Lex felt every wave of her climax so deeply that his body quickly tensed and pulsated with his own release.

And then, there in the aftermath, rolling onto his side next to her, he confirmed his belief that yes, in ways he had not yet completely bothered thinking through, he needed her. Spent and short of breath, Lex allowed his head to fall against the pillow, taking a few breaths before propping his head up with one arm. With his free arm, he first reached up and brushed the hair out of Claire’s face before draping his arm lazily over her midsection.

The afterglow that lingered on her face - the sleepy half-smile and half-shut eyes, the tilt of her head comfortably towards him - was an image that Lex very much wanted to commit to memory. He knew Claire well enough at this point to be aware that in time, she would very possibly realize that this was a grave mistake. But she hadn’t realized it yet, and until she did, Lex was for once content to coexist with her, to breathe the same air and not speak. She managed a lopsided grin and reached out to run her fingertips over his cheek one more time before gently rolling onto her side. She shifted so that her back was pressed close to Lex’s chest, her body curling up against his as she allowed him to keep his arm over her.

Lex, perhaps out of impulse than anything else, leaned over and pressed his lips to the side of her head, taking a full breath of the scent of her hair before letting his head rest on the pillow again. Claire gently turned her head for a moment, looking slightly taken aback by the sudden show of affection from him. However, she simply managed another smile before again shutting her eyes again. Lex tightened his hold around her waist, perhaps unconsciously doing so, so that she was even closer to him.

If this was temporary - though in his mind, he was already formulating how to ensure it would not be - then he was in no rush to interrupt it.


	18. Chapter 18

"With forty-five minutes to spare."

Lex glanced at the time and murmured to himself - he had managed somehow to fall asleep again next to her, lulled into calmness by the warmth of her body and the rhythm of her breathing. Slowly returning to wakefulness, he was admittedly surprised at himself - his ability to sleep in recent months was an enormous change in and of itself. This sense of peace he felt in another person's presence was not what he'd foreseen in his working with Claire Branigan.

He traced a fingertip down Claire's spine, reasonably certain that she was not just pretending to be asleep - she lay on her side, facing away from him with the sheet of the bed pulled over her front, leaving her back mostly exposed. His fingertip traced over the lines of the tattoo that he'd first gotten a fleeting glance of in prison - the Jabberwocky. He'd known at that point that she was a woman with a story. With secrets. With vulnerabilities. With demons. He'd known at that point that in a way that she perhaps wouldn't ever understand, she was like him. She stirred slightly at the touch of his fingertip, however, and gently rolled her shoulders. It seemed to take her a few moments to register where she was or what had happened. However, even when she had, even when it was confirmed by her turning to face him and looking at him with a look of drowsy curiosity, Lex did not have the feeling of staring down a frantic doe. There was a peace about he that did not leave him with the fear that she was going to scurry off into hiding.

There would be time later, Claire had conceded, to mull over the consequence of what had just happened. The fact of the matter was that it had, and if it ruined her life later, she would have the rest of it to be miserable. There would only be consequences when they returned to Metropolis. This was still Central City - a place where their names and their stories meant nothing, even if solely for the fact that this was not their home. If things were just going to inevitably fall to pieces anyway, then she could give herself a few precious hours of buying into this illusion of whatever this was with Alexander Luthor Junior. For a few precious hours, she could be a little blind.

Lex, on the other hand, could no longer bring himself to see the moment as fleeting at all. This was the sealing of the deal that, in his mind, they had been negotiating since the instant Claire had first appeared in his life. Time and again, he had done everything he could to try her resolve, to the very last offering her the opportunity to walk away, and she did not. To the very last, he had blatantly shown her the door and invited her to leave through it - had even, in many instances, given her a hard nudge out. If he was the devil, then she had made her deal with him of her own accord.

And that meant that she was his now. That was the only thing it _could_ mean.

In the time Lex had taken to mull over these things - to solidify his justification for his claim over the woman in front of him - she had already given a small cat-like yawn and stretch, reaching over to the foot of the bed for her clothes and starting to slip them on.

It was a waste, Lex decided with a smirk. He very much appreciated the sight of her without them. He almost reluctantly left the bed himself, making his way toward the bathroom to take a shower.

Perhaps it was a little delusional, he decided under the stinging warm needles of water, but what had happened now in his mind justified what he had done... what Claire would likely soon find out about. He'd taken a course of action that had been meant as yet another test, but surely now, it would be nothing. Perhaps, Lex decided to himself, she would even be _grateful_ for it when she realized it. Whatever this was, it was all-consuming, just the way his hatred for Superman had been. He knew no other way. Superman - Clark Kent - had been a symbol of the ultimate power. Claire Branigan in his mind was his new conception of the ultimate good. The ultimate understanding and compassion, even to the extent of bearing this final test Lex had been planning.

He emerged from the bathroom to see Claire standing in front of the mirror, lazily braiding her hair off to one side. She was still wearing the same black pencil skirt she had been wearing before, but instead of the prim, secretary-marmish chiffon blouse she had been wearing, she had instead put on the shirt Lex had been wearing the night before, knotted in the front so that a sliver of skin along her midsection peered between the shirt and the high waist on the black skirt.

"People are generally thick-skulled - I figured you'd want to ensure the general public gets the hint," Claire said matter-of-factly, and Lex chuckled, walking over and kissing her soundly on the mouth for being so quick to continue the ploy. Being seen at breakfast wearing his shirt he'd been photographed in from the night before was, he agreed, a clear message. He pulled back from the kiss, the side of his knuckle tipping her chin gently upward so that they could meet one another's eyes.

"Brilliant idea," he said with a smirk. "I do like them clever."

And for a glimmer of a second, he saw in her eyes that she was, perhaps somewhere in the deeper recesses of her mind, enamored with him the way he was sure no one ever had - he saw for a moment that for once, the compliment had meant something to her. For the first time, the same little phrase Lex used to invariably push her buttons in fact did the opposite. Even if she quickly shook the stars from her eyes and pulled away from him, he'd already caught it. He'd succeeded in sinking his talons into her.

"So breakfast and back home?" she asked with forced nonchalance, sitting at the foot of the bed and reaching for the remote control to the large-screen television, turning it on and zoning out slightly to the local news channel that came on by default.

"In other news," the perfectly-coifed news anchorwoman lilted as a picture of a man popped up on the corner of the screen. "Attempted robbery suspect Leonard Snart, who just last week allegedly attempted an armed robbery on the Central City Superior Courthouse, posted two million dollars bail this morning thanks to an anonymous donor and will be released in a matter of hours..."

Two million dollars. Claire stiffened slightly, and Lex could see the gears turning in her head at the realization that two million dollars was nothing to scoff at - it was an amount that did not lend itself to coincidence. First came the epiphany. Then, there was the fear. Now, there was the inkling of possibility that she was putting two and two together, and would potentially again withdraw. Lex felt his hands clenching into fists at his sides as he closely observed her, waiting for a response.

"Was it you?" she asked, her voice calm.

"What do you think?" he replied, his voice tense and guttural. Claire didn't respond just yet and instead lifted the remote to turn off the television set, facing him with a lopsided grin.

"I think," she began in a collected tone, leaning back on her forearms and crossing her legs at the knee, cocking her head to one side, "that we should get downstairs before we miss breakfast. I'm _starving_."

Lex knew that she knew. He knew because one of the things he valued most about her was her ability to solve puzzles, to not miss the clues. But, if she disapproved, he didn't see it - she instead got back to her feet and stood in front of him, almost absently straightening and smoothing the collar of the shirt he was wearing. She was _with_ him. He smirked back at her as he gently caught her hands at the wrists - slowly becoming his possessive gesture of choice - and looped one of her arms through his.

"Shall we?"

The air between them was substantially different than it had erstwhile been - there was a sense of casualness and lack of needed effort in the way Claire leaned into his side as they walked, the way Lex's arm draped over her shoulders as they exited the hotel elevator. They leaned across the table towards one another over their coffee, focused on one another and not on anyone else. For the first time, it was not about being seen by anyone - in the haze of the events of the earlier morning, there was a focus and a comfort between them.

It had taken only a matter of hours, Lex had not yet quite realized, for Claire to be completely transformed, and now she was no longer a tool to be held at arm's length. All he knew was that now, he had the urge for her not to leave his sight, to always have his hands or his eyes on her because what else did one do when something or someone belonged to you? He didn't know, and did not purport to.

"I can't say I've ever had anyone nearly beat me at basketball in heels," Lex pointed out at some point during their breakfast, partially because he knew that things were likely not to be this way once their short time away from Metropolis was over, and he wanted to commit to memory the way she smiled and lit up for him - he had one more test planned for her, and it would very possibly, he realized, change everything. For now, however, she simply laughed and shook her head, drinking from her coffee mug.

"I would've _won_ in heels if you'd played fair," she smirked.

"Me? Play fair?" Lex asked with a matter-of-fact quirk of his eyebrows and a tilt of his head. "Clearly, you haven't known me long enough yet."

Claire rolled her eyes, but not in the way Lex was accustomed to, not in the way that made it clear she was infuriated with him. Everything about their interactions, even the small expressions and gestures Lex had seen countless times before, seemed somehow new and different in light of the turn their morning had taken.

Lex had made a point of avoiding attaching too much to particular moments - because it was even more dangerous than being attached to people. You couldn't become attached to the latter without the former, he concluded. As a boy, he'd been attached to moments with his father - brief, fleeting moments that gave him misguided hope that his father cared for him as much as for Metropolis and for LexCorp. Moments were fleeting and were nothing to build upon. But Lex allowed himself to grow attached to this moment, and was indeed reluctant to leave it.

But it had to be left behind eventually, and soon, they were back in the car, back on the jet, back in the air. The jet was heading back to Metropolis, where Claire was not for him like an open flower, but closed off. He thought for a moment of cherry blossomed that bloomed for a moment and then were gone. He found himself growing more and more frenetic in anticipation of their return to Metropolis, because there was one test that Claire had yet to pass. He found his mood darkening slightly at the thought of the possibility of Claire Branigan failing this last test, and what this would require him to do in response.

As they neared the private airstrip outside of Metropolis and slowly began their descent, he noticed the sudden shift and tensing in Claire, who had very literal tolerance for this part of flying - he had instructed her to sit beside him instead of across from him this time for precisely this reason. It still surprised him, however, when immediately upon feeling the plane begin to descend, her hand shot out and immediately grasped his, her eyes clenching shut. Now, for the first time, it was Claire whose hands shook, whose fears and anxieties, though different from Lex's and perhaps not as significant, took over her. And now, it was Lex who clasped his hands over hers.

Like she had done for him many times before, he gently coaxed her grip open, and when he did so, her eyes opened as well- it distracted her enough from the descent of the plane, because the role reversal was so jarring. For the first time, Claire looked at him with such vulnerability and gratitude, and the expression seemed to lance Lex deeply. He'd knew that look well enough - he knew it because in those brief, glancing moments where his father had been a father, Lex had given it to him. It was a look of hope, and he knew that giving that look to someone was a giving over of power to them.

Even if only out of pride, out of determination to not be his father, Lex found himself bent on not wielding that power over Claire in the way his father wielded it over him. Claire, he concluded, had been sent to him as a way of him being different from his father - of setting himself apart.

When the plane was back on the ground and no longer in the air, Claire slowly got to her feet, slipping back on the shoes she had taken off during the flight and smoothing out her clothes. When Lex got to her feet, however, his first move was to gently grab the crook of her arm and pulled her back to kiss her with a strange, sinking curiosity if this was perhaps the last time. Already, he could feel her hesitation returning.

"So," he said, pulling away and stepping off ahead of her to open the exit door where the airstrip attendants had already set up the stairs for their descent. "Home?"

Still grasping Lex's hand for stability as she stepped down each stair and off the last step on the rollaway staircase, Claire used her other hand to reach into her bag to switch her phone back on. Immediately it began buzzing with a flurry of missed calls - she lifted the phone and glanced at it as she set foot on the ground of the airstrip.

"The nursing agency has been calling," Claire said with a confused expression, and almost like a reflex, she also pulled her hand out of Lex's grasp because now, they were back in Metropolis. Now, she was a nurse again, she had a job again. She was his _nurse_ and not merely _his_. Lex's jaw clenched slightly, and he again reached over for her hand, coaxing her in the direction of the lot where his car was parked, mouthing silently, _not for long_. "Lex, hold on, let me make a call before we-"

"I'm sure they can wait," he dismissed, waving a hand as he opened the passenger side door for her and gently tapped the palm of his hand on the top of the car in hopes of rushing her inside. "Tick-tock, Claire. Places to be."

She rolled her eyes gently in disdain but still complied in getting into the car, buckling her seatbelt before finally hitting dial on her phone while Lex was walking around to the other side. His expression fell when he get into the driver's seat, but he started the car and began pulling out of the lot while Claire waited for an answer on the phone.

"Hello?"

"Miss Branigan, I'm glad you called," Lex heard the garbled female voice on the other end reply through Claire's phone. "I'm very sorry to bother you, just some light housekeeping and paperwork that needs to get squared away."

"Paperwork?" Claire asked, her brow furrowing. "Is there a problem?"

"No, no problem at all! Just paperwork, honestly. We recently closed out your direct deposit account with payroll and we need an address to send your last check to."

"My..." Claire's voice trailed of as she struggled to process what was being said. "I'm sorry, I'm not sure I understand."

"Oh, I'm sorry - it's just that you had a few days of work time logged into our system," the woman from the nursing agency's office said, genuinely apologetic. "After your turned in your letter of resignation? I know it's an inconvenience, but -"

"Resignation?" Claire's voice went slightly shrill as she repeated the word, feeling almost as though she was choking on it as it ascended her throat to leave her mouth. "I'm not sure I... know what you're... talking about..."

And while she was still on the phone with the woman at the agency, who now paused in attempts to decide how to respond, Claire glanced briefly at Lex, who pointedly avoided her gaze and kept his eyes focused on the road ahead of them. She picked up at the sight of his knuckles paling while his grip on the steering wheel, the tensing of his jaw, and he realized he knew something just as the woman on the other end of the phone provided Claire with a response.

"The resignation letter Mister Luthor brought by for you last week?"


	19. Chapter 19

_"Resignation? I'm not sure I... know what you're... talking about..."_

_"The resignation letter Mister Luthor brought by for you last week?"_

For a moment, the world seemed to stand still. A resignation letter. She didn't work for the agency anymore - she no longer worked as Lex Luthor's nurse. She was, on one hand, off the hook for whatever the trip to Central City had become. A small part of her felt a wave of relief at the prospect of it. But on the other hand...

Lex had brought in the letter. Last week, while he had been plotting away how to make her as unsettled as possible, taking her out to dinner, kissing her in the elevator, he had already had his ace up his sleeve. For a brief moment, she'd allowed herself to harbor a fleeting illusion of who Lex Luthor was - a fantastical thought that perhaps the person in Central City was the real Lex, and everything else was merely smoke and mirrors. But this shattered the bubble in an instant, and there was nothing she could do to restore it.

"Right," Claire said vaguely, cognizant of the fact that right now, there was little that could be done in the way of damage control - not when she couldn't even think straight. "Right - just have it mailed. Thank you."

Claire ended the call and put her phone down in the cupholder between herself and Lex, drawing in a few deep breaths and attempting to piece together in her mind what all of this was.

"I had to," Lex spoke up without waiting for the question to be asked. "I had to know. Your free will, Claire - _He had of me all he could have; I made him just and right. Sufficient to have stood, though free to fall..._ "

Claire felt her skin prickle as she recognized the passage Lex was now reciting, from Paradise Lost. But even more unnerving was the fact that Lex only began to pick from his repository of passages stored in his photographic memory when his own words were failing him - when he was so sorely agitated that he could not longer form his own thoughts completely, so he resorted to bits and pieces from the many books he had read. For a fleeting moment, there was a flicker of compassion in Claire's eyes because she knew this was what Lex did when he was frantic, when he was pressured.

"Free will is what allows us to see what a man - or, well," he said with a nasal, forced laugh, " _woman_ is truly made of. You're free now. Don't you see?" Lex asked, shaking his head incredulously. "You have the freedom to choose now. You don't work for _them_ anymore. You don't work for _me_ anymore. You can _choose_ me now -"

"Choose? I don't get to choose anything!" Claire retorted, feeling her chest start to tighten in sheer panic as the gravity of the situation really began to dawn on her. It wasn't just a job she had walked away from. It wasn't just the agency she answered to, and it was only a matter of time before someone Claire feared much more than any nurse manager was going to find out. Could she go back? Was the damage already done? "I have never had a choice in _any_ of this, and now -"

"And now you do," Lex insisted. "And I'm the one who gave it to you -"

"You've gotta be kidding me!" Claire said, running her quivering hands over her hair as her mind processed the many things that could happen to her. Maybe getting branded wouldn't be too bad, she thought to herself with misplaced sarcasm, in futile hope that it would somehow make her feel any better. Maybe it would look good with her tattoo. "You didn't give me any choice, Lex."

"Yes. I _did_ ," he said, his jaw clenching in exasperation at her obstinance. "I gave you -"

"Don't give me this shit, Lex," Claire said, her teeth equally gritted, her tone equally tense, and Lex felt himself stiffen in response to _this_ side of her. He had never pushed her to her limits, and now he had finally found them. "I've put up with your mind games for _months_ , and I've taken more than my share - but I'm drawing the line. I'm drawing the goddamn line, I'm done -"

"No. We are not _done_ yet, Claire," he said in a near-hiss. "I've given you the chance of a lifetime You just don't see it, Claire, but I've given you the opportunity -"

"The opportunity to what? Are you trying to get me killed? I could lose _everything_ because of this," Claire retorted shrilly, before she could stop the words from leaving her mouth - but upon saying it, she let out a small gasp in realization that as vague as it was, it was very incriminating. It was not something that would be said by someone not harboring a secret. Lex's grip on the steering wheel tightened as they continued down the interstate back from the airstrip.

"What do you mean?" he asked, his voice lowering in volume and his eyes planted ahead of them on the road. Claire's jaw clenched shut, and she flinched when he slammed his palm down on the dashboard. She realized quickly that she was not a good enough liar to save herself now. The dam had cracked, and the flood was coming. Briefly, she entertained the thought of silence - of saying nothing and hoping it would blow over - only to have those hopes quickly dashed. "I said, what do you mean?"

Claire felt herself squirming - a part of her, perhaps, had loosened her hold on her secret because she knew it would hurt him back, and now, it was possibly too late to take back what she had chosen to do out of anger. More than anger, however, was the fact that she was simply _tired_. She wasn't so much afraid or angry at this point as she was exhausted at having been made a pawn for so long by everyone around her. Perhaps some small part of this had been self-sabotage - self-destructive - because Claire had lost the stamina to keep playing the game.

"Who do you think is going to kill you, Claire?" Lex asked, still with deceptive calm and blankness in his voice - though Claire could tell also that he was slowly piecing things together and would no longer be able to stop. The house of cards was already falling and there was nothing to do except to watch it collapse - a fact that Claire was quickly resigning herself to. "Who are you so afraid of?"

"Lex, just listen to me, please -"

_"Who is it, Claire?!"_

" _Batman_ ," Claire choked out, clenching her eyes shut. "It's Batman."

Claire immediately saw the shudder of revulsion run through Lex the instant she said it, but he continued driving - sped up, almost to the point of recklessness, weaving between other cars on the road while Claire fearfully gripped the edges of her seat, clenching her eyes shut. Whether she had finally let go of the revelation out of fear or out of fatigue at having carried it so long, it was out now. It was irreversible. If moments ago, she thought she would be the one asking the questions, the tables had very quickly turned.

"He picked me up off the street when I was leaving work at the prison and said I would never work again if I didn't help him keep an eye on you," Claire said in a shrill, rapid voice. "So I did it -"

"Can he hear us right now?" Lex asked with his lip curling in a sneer, his hand shooting out for the phone that sit in the center console between them and casting it away over his shoulder so that it landed in the backseat. "Are you bugged, Claire?"

"No," she answered in a near whimper. "No, not yet -"

"Not yet - what do you mean not yet?" he interrupted. Claire felt the car take a sharp curve and she forced her eyes open to see that they were taking an exit that they weren't intended to take. They weren't going home. She felt her heart begin pounding and again jumped when Lex's voice hoarsely yelled, "I said, what does that mean, _not yet_?"

"That's why I haven't been able to go home," Claire said, unconsciously curling into the side of the seat away from Lex, for the first time feeling genuinely fearful of him the way she had been warned that she should. "The night when I came back for my phone, that was the last time I spoke to him - he was going to bug my phone but I never went back."

"What does he want?"

"He wanted to know what you were doing, he just wanted to watch you - I never agreed to do anything else," Claire said in an almost pleading voice. "He and that _woman_ just wanted me to watch you and make sure you weren't ahead of them in whatever they're trying to do, the keep you out of their way -"

"You think I believe that?" Lex said with a shrill, nasal, and still somehow terrifying laugh. "You think I believe that's true when you work for Bruce Wayne -"

"I don't -"

"Don't you get it? I thought you were clever!" Lex said, still laughing in a strange, unfamiliar way that Claire could tell meant that this realization for whatever reason was bringing him close to the edge of his stability. "Think, Claire. Use that shrewd little brain of yours. _Bruce Wayne is Batman_."

The statement washed over Claire like freezing cold water - her eyes widened, and she thought that her heart had all but stopped in her chest, like the wind had been knocked out of her. Bruce Wayne was Batman? Bruce Wayne, who she had nothing short of hero worshiped? This was the only reason he had treated her like she was special, like he saw potential in her? The look of shock seemed to catch Lex by surprise, but instead of allowing himself to calm, to think, he simply pressed down more on the gas as the car began speeding up a secluded hill road.

"Why did you tell me the truth, Claire?" he asked, shaking his head and keeping his gaze forward. He hadn't wanted this kind of revelation from her. Betrayal had not been the expected outcome - he had foreseen her passing this test with flying colors like every single one he had put before her, and this deviation left him clutching for the end of a very short rope. "You shouldn't have opened your mouth - why did you tell me?!"

"Lex, please slow down." Claire said, but Lex felt himself recoil at the choked tone of her voice. This was not the voice of compassion or protection that he had come to identify her with. This wasn't his Claire. This Claire was afraid. She was afraid of him. "Lex, please -"

And just then, he slammed the car to a halt. Claire felt her body lurch forward as the car stopped moving, grimacing at the jolt but immediately realizing where they had stopped - the cliff overlooking the Metropolis Bay, where they'd come not long ago, the first place where he had almost kissed her, the place that, as Claire looked back, had been the harbinger of what was happening here now.

"Get out," Lex snarled in a low voice. Claire slowly turned to face him, eyes full of question, and it was a look that he could not bear. "Get out of the car!" he roared, clenching his eyes shut. Claire now scrambled to comply, fumbling with the buckle of her seatbelt and stumbling out of the car. Lex got out of his own side as well and came around the front, advancing on Claire so that she was back against the rickety wooden fence that separated the edge of the cliff from the inevitable fall. Her hands groped behind her, holding onto the fence for support as she attempted to cower under Lex's gaze.

But looking at her, even through the haze of his anger, Lex saw something in her eyes that shook him - that cooled the rage within him, even just for a matter of seconds. She was afraid.

The fear in her eyes when he stood over her in his anger was a fear that he knew - and knew well. It was a fear that he had felt nearly every day for years of his own young life until he had taken up arms against it, slain the beast that instilled it in him. But even more than fear, there was that look again. There was a softness in her fear that shot him through the chest with a realization that it was not just herself that she feared for. She feared for him too.

"Do you think I'm going to hurt you?" he asked blankly, tilting his head to one side and leaning in closer to Claire. "My beautiful, _sweet_ Claire. Do you think I'm going to harm you?"

"I know you are."

Lex's brow knitted in genuine confusion, and he shook his head in disbelief before shoving his face even closer to hers, carefully scrutinizing her expressions as though he could read her honesty by the little wrinkles around her eyes. "If you know I'm going to hurt you, then why aren't you running?"

"Because this jig is up," Claire said simply. "And if I leave now... if I'm not the one who gets hurt, then you will be."

"Why do you think that?"

"Because I'm not the only one standing at the edge of a cliff right now, Lex. If I run, that leaves you here," she said, still trembling but steeling herself for whatever came next. "Keeping you safe is..."

Lex found his own emotions tethered strangely to hers in the heat of the moment - there was brief faltering in his anger when he saw her raised her hand to cover her mouth, but it lasted only a millisecond before she again put on her brave face with which he had grown so familiar.

"Keeping you safe is the one thing I haven't managed to screw up yet, so if it's all the same to you, _Mister Luthor_ ," she retorted, raising her eyebrows sharply, "I'm not about to abandon my post just yet."

And just like that, she had returned - the fire that he knew belonged to her had returned, had been real. And even more inconceivably, even after divesting herself of that awful truth, she was still the figure that Lex had come to recognize. The Angel.

Lex shifted so that he could take a few paces to the side, striding up to the fence next to Claire and looking out over the cliff and out into the distance in disquieting silence. But it was only in this quiet that Claire's mind circled back to the revelation that Lex had made to her - Bruce Wayne and Batman were one and the same. Claire felt almost nauseous, and she braced one hand on her abdomen, looking down at the ground and shaking her head. She had trusted Bruce Wayne - thought that he genuinely saw potential in her and wanted to give her a chance at her biggest dream.

It had all been a part of the plan. Lex glanced her over and felt a wave of something _good_ -feeling wash over him - a sense of power over her, a feeling that took away his idea of being a pawn, of being the smallest and most easily manipulated piece on the chessboard.

"They used you, Claire," he said in a near-whisper. "You can see that, can't you?"

Claire looked up at the sound of Lex's voice, eerily quiet as he again turned to her, tilting his head and reaching up to brush the back of his knuckles across the side of her cheek - she tensed, but wouldn't dare pull away and show weakness now.

"So did you," she replied calmly, drawing herself up as straight as she could and managing to somehow look him in the eye, realizing for the first time, she couldn't read him. She couldn't sense what he was thinking or feeling.

"Claire," he said, gently shaking his head with a quiet chuckle. "Claire, Claire, Claire. What have I ever threatened to take away from you? When I have I ever taken your free will from you? I wouldn't dream of it."

She opened her mouth to reply, only to realize that strangely, Lex was right. Though many of the events of recent weeks had been to her great disdain, it still remained that she had freely complied with all of them, played the willing accomplice. Batman - Bruce Wayne - had forced her compliance with blackmail and subterfuge. Lex had still been the lesser of two evils.

"My offer still stands," Lex said coolly, drawing himself up to full height in front of her. "Your freedom. But because of what you've told me, you'll need to exercise that free will sooner than later."

"I don't understand."

"You can run, and I will not so much as utter a word against your impeccable moral character, Miss Branigan," Lex said matter-of-factly, placing his hands on his hips and tilting his head to one side. "But you will have me as an enemy. Or..."

"Or?"

The immediate, inquisitive response from Claire brought a slight smirk to Lex's face. It was satisfying, he conceded, that she did not want to be his enemy, that she did not immediately run. But he would have to wait and see if the alternative persuaded her to change her mind.

"Or you choose me," Lex said, leaning his face close to hers. "Cut off all ties with the Bat and with Gotham. For good."

The surprise in Claire's eyes sent a jolt of resentment and perhaps even jealousy through Lex - he felt bitterness surging through him at the fact that her decision was not immediate. It should have been. Wasn't she _his?_ His hands clenched into fists, and he again leaned in closely - threateningly - with his face close to Claire's.

"I'm offering you one chance. I don't _give_ second chances, Claire," he hissed, unable to string together a way of making her understand the significance of the opportunity he was handing her, even in light of how much he had been wounded by her disclosure. He was trying to reward her loyalty, and there was no gratitude in her eyes. "Do you know that? Do you _understand_? Do you know what happens to people who -"

"I know what happens to people who let you down, Lex," Claire interrupted, her eyes narrowed slightly. "And I'm not sure what you have to gain in not doing the same to me -"

"Choose me, and I will erase the Bat from your life," Lex said, suddenly grabbing Claire by the shoulders and barely fighting off the urge to shake her, unable to bear answering her question directly. She asked too many of them. "He's the reason you were afraid to go home, wasn't it? You're afraid of him. I can protect you from him -"

"- but you won't unless I leave behind everything that comes with it," Claire finished, removing his hands from her shoulders. She knew what this meant. It didn't just mean walking away from the work she had agreed to do as Lex Luthor's nurse. It meant walking away from the Wayne Memorial Clinic, from all of her dreams and goals and aspirations. And Lex knew he was demanding it of her. He knew and yet still persisted. But to Lex, it made perfect sense. He first needed to divest her of her ties to what had been and of any connections to that which previously held her captive. The thought of her being controlled by Bruce Wayne made Lex almost physically ill - but he would banish it from his very memory to keep his only ally if she would only give over that control to him.

She would, he thought repeatedly to himself. He could not have been wrong about her. Lex Luthor was wrong about no one.

"Get in the car," Lex said with eerie calm that caused Claire immediately bristle in response. "We're going to drive home. I'm not going to hurt you. And you are going to tell me everything that brought you from Metropolis State Penitentiary to this precarious position we are now standing in."

He placed his hand on her back and moved her in her stunned silence back to the passenger side door of the car, but she did not yet get inside, instead frowning and staring at Lex in confusion.

"Maybe we shouldn't -"

"Not. Here," Lex interrupted, raising a hand and rest his index finger to her lips in a shushing motion. It was at once both threatening and sensual - a strange culmination of the events of the past day. "Get in the car, Claire."

And Claire complied, sitting wordlessly with her quivering hands clenched into fists and resting on her thighs, her eyes locked in position as they stared forward. Lex drove home calmly, though not speaking a word to Claire, and that in and of itself left her feeling unsettled. There was an almost ironic chivalry in the way he opened the door for her, walked her inside Luthor Mansion with his hand resting on the small of her back. It was almost calming, until Claire realized that he was leading her into his father's study.

This was not a place of safety. It was not a place of good thoughts. It was a place that smelled permanently of firewood and bourbon, that was perpetually dim as sunlight fought its way through heavy curtains and shaded windows, casting a glow onto the enlarged Gustave Dore print of angels and fallen angels on the wall. This was the place that Lex came to try and channel his father - to try and feel powerful when he was not. This was where he brought those he sought to be powerful over.

Lex coaxed Claire to sit in one of the plush armchairs before walking over to the wheeled caddy on the other side of the room, taking two scotch glasses and pouring out two drinks - not his drink of choice, the Butterscotch Schnapps, but his father's preferred poison. Kentucky Bourbon. He brought the drinks over and handed one to Claire with surprising nonchalance, but at the same time, she knew she was expected - required, even - to accept.

"You're more of a talker with a little liquid courage," Lex pointed out, taking a sip from the glass and starting to pace back and forth. "I'm going to give you one chance, Claire. Tell me everything."


	20. Chapter 20

"...that first night I stayed here in the mansion with you - the last night I ever went back to my apartment, that was the last time I told him anything," Claire admitted, having gone through the events of recent months in excruciating detail. "He knows Lubrano's name, and that he's your antiques dealer - I didn't have anything else."

Lex, truth be told, wasn't sure how much of her story he had listened to. He had trained his steely gaze on her face and found that for the first time since he had known her, she was in tears. He'd wanted to chalk them up to fear for her life, but he still felt confident that he could read this woman with whom he had spent so much of his time in recent weeks. Claire Branigan knew from the very beginning of their acquaintance what he was capable of, and she had never feared him. She wasn't crying because she was afraid. She was crying out of remorse.

She was crying because she was sorry.

Lex's initial gut reaction was suspicion. He had never had someone show remorse for having wronged him, so the concept was at first distant and ineffable. People were never sorry, Lex had come to bellieve, until you _made_ them sorry. He continued pacing, drinking from his glass and attempting to show no reaction - but his knuckles were still pale from his tight grip on the half-empty scotch glass.

The fact remained, however, that a decision needed to be made of where to lay blame - and indeed, he not only needed but deeply desired to lay blame somewhere. In truth, Lex pondered silently to himself, continuing to sip at his glass while Claire squirmed in the silence, that all of this merely cemented his theory about the nature of man, the inverse relationship between good and power.

He was not ready to compromise the image of Claire he possessed in his mind, of the sort of delicate angel that represented to him all of the protection and care he had never in his life experienced - the love he should have known from a mother, of which he had been deprived, and the loyalty of a partner which he had never aspired to finding. And as such, because she was for Lex the ultimate good, then she would have to be in a state of the ultimate powerlessness as well.

Of course this had happened to her. Because she was small and powerless in the face of Batman, of Bruce Wayne who was as they spoke gathering a team of metahumans for a futile, supposedly noble cause - a concentration of power that in the guise of goodness could crush them all like the ants they were.

The thought brought a smirk to Lex's lips. The exchange he'd had with the Bat, months ago in the prison holding cell... he had not thought of it for a very long time. He hadn't thought of the things he had learned and seen and heard on the Kryptonian ship because he had accepted that something was coming. They did not know the hour or the day, but he knew. Moreover, he had warned the Bat, and the warning had been heeded.

Batman was afraid of him, he concluded.

And even better, Lex realized, this perhaps made Claire even more accessible to him. Because she was now a frail and delicate flower that needed protecting. His frail and delicate thing to have and own. The only piece that had yet to fall into place was her acquiescence.

"My offer still stands, Claire," Lex said in a quiet voice, staring down into his glass and swirling the last bit of his drink around the bottom. "You're free. You can run if you like."

When Lex finally managed to look at her again, she stared back and hardly breathed, having taking not even a sip from her glass as though she feared he would actually poison her on such short notice. Lex almost felt offended by her suspicion - he wasn't _that_ sloppy. He crouched over slightly and clinked his glass against hers with a small smirk. "You're not running."

"Obviously I'm not going to be reporting back to anyone anymore. The jig is up. But what now?" she asked shakily. "If I do what you're asking me to do -"

"If you do as I ask, I'll protect you from him and whatever posse he's managed to wrangle up," Lex said with a strange, frenzied laugh as he thought back to the party at Wayne Manor - the feeling of being surrounded by the very metahumans he had identified. "Don't you think I can protect you, Claire?"

"Why would you protect me?"

"Why would _you_ protect _me_?" Lex deflected, placing his glass down onto the side table with a little more force than was needed, then leaning his face close to Claire's with his eyes slightly narrowed. "You and I both know now that it wasn't just doing your job - you weren't assigned the job of keeping me safe. You were assigned to job of spying on me. Your excuse doesn't work anymore, Claire," he insisted. "You don't get to pass the buck, m'dear. Now you have a choice to make."

"Why did you do it?" Claire finally managed to ask, rather than addressing the subject Lex was attempting to steer her towards. "Why did you bring in the resignation letter?"

"Because I can't have an ally whose loyalty can be bought. Basic housekeeping," Lex said, taking the last swig of his drink - and the nonchalance seemed to finally tweak Claire's last nerve, forcing her to rise from her seat, despite her precarious position in light of the truth that had just been revealed.

"You can trust me, Lex," Claire said - but though the phrase should have been encouraging, should have been laced with her usual comforting tone, this was laced instead with venom. "You can trust that I would have never in a million years divulged information that would have put you in danger, that you're hooked on sleeping pills and tried to jump off a balcony or that you're lying to Doctor Cavendish to make sure you keep that nice label of criminally insane to stay out of prison," she said rapidly, jabbing her index finger into Lex's chest.

"But I can't trust you and I would never be _stupid_ enough to trust you. I made mistake because I had to. What you did doesn't count as a mistake because you knew exactly what you were doing. I know you're not insane. You just don't give a shit."

At this, Lex pulled back as though he'd been scalded by her words, his lip curling into a sneer. He had in such a short span of time become addicted to the Claire that was enamored with him, the Claire that laughed and stared at him with stars in her eyes. His Claire. This was not her.

"I'm done. I'm out," Claire said, shaking her head in disdain. "I can't -"

"Where are you going to go?" Lex asked quietly, raising his eyebrows, and when Claire managed to look up at him in the pause that followed, she realized that he was smirking as well. "Where do you have besides here that the Bat can't find you? You know too much about him, about what he's planning. You think that you can make a clean break? Because I'll tell you now - there are no clean breaks."

Claire inhaled sharply through her nostrils as Lex took a few steps closer to her, leaning his face closer to hers. "We're just ants, Claire. We're ants, walking through life trying not to get stepped on. And now, only I can keep you safe."

" _Safe_ ," Claire scoffed. "You're unbelievable."

"I'm _effective_ ," Lex said nonchalantly, shrugging and picking up the glass that Claire had put down, holding it out in her direction again. "Tell me, what have I done to you that's any worse than what Bruce Wayne has done?"

Claire opened her mouth to reply but found words quickly failing her in her time of need. She felt her resolve weaken as she realized that Lex was right. Bruce Wayne had forced her to leave the job at the Penitentiary to spy on Lex Luthor. Bruce Wayne had limited her options so that she had no choice but to comply. Lex Luthor and Bruce Wayne had each implemented the same strategy at opposite ends of a game of tug-o-war. She finally accepted the glass from his hand and took a small sip.

Lex smirked silently to himself - it was almost a sacramental gesture in his mind. It meant that the tie was not yet completely severed.

The difference between Lex Luthor and Bruce Wayne, Claire was coming to conclude, was that none of the things that Claire had done for Bruce Wayne were for genuine care for him - even in this haze of rage and affront, Claire could not say the same of the things she had done for Lex. She had submitted to much of what was happening with Lex out of her own free will... and this was a side of herself that Claire was not sure she had yet made amends with.

"I can't be here," Claire said sternly. "I won't go back to Bruce Wayne. Not now, not ever. But I can't be around you either. I kept the truth from you, and I'm sorry for that -"

"What?"

Lex paled - it was, perhaps, not an appropriate or expected response, but the sound of a genuine apology struck him deeply because it was something he had never received. He had been hurt and wronged and slighted, but had never received an apology for it - Lex Luthor had never seen genuine remorse for having hurt him, and he was indeed, whether he would admit it or not, deeply wounded. Lex did not believe people could feel remorse for their wrongdoings without his prompting, without his force. That was the nature and the truth about humanity that he knew. It disoriented him to no end when Claire did not follow it.

"For whatever reason," Lex bagan vaguely, moving around the side of the chair to lean on the back, pulling himself out of Claire's line of sight and giving her a small amount of room to breathe. "You've taken an interest beyond what was asked of you in what happens to me. And I consider you an invaluable ally, Claire. At this point, I consider us square. Nothing needs to change -"

"Lex, I'm leaving -"

"And staying where? He'll find you," Lex said. "You have no job, and if the Bat is good to his word, you most likely won't find one. You're free to walk out, but let's face it. Even if the Bat does absolutely nothing to besmirch your reputation, there's still the matter of damage that's already been done."

"What?"

"Well, let's face it," Lex said with a snide grin and a quirk of his eyebrows, "I've been your patient, and the public is well aware of the special treatment I get. I don't mind it, but I don't know if other potential employers would have high regard for your bedside manner."

Lex knew it would enrage her, throwing it in her face that she was now known for having done exactly what she was asked - that her behavior in playing along with his games was a legacy she could not escape. He knew it would hurt her - and he wanted it to hurt her but at the same time he did not, and again, there was an overwhelming sense of noise in his head that made everything cease to make sense. He trusted her and yet he didn't. He wanted her to hurt and yet seeing her hurt made him feel physically nauseous. He didn't know if his anger was at her or at her unsettling calm - he needed her to react in anger because it was all he knew how to process. Claire's hands reflexively clenched, her grip tightening on the armrest of the couch on one side, around her glass on the other. Her breaths became heavy, her chest heaving laboriously.

Lex Luthor at times had the urge like Icarus to fly too close to the sun - to either transcend or succumb to his mortality. So, it seemed only reasonable that he now come back around the chair to stand in front of Claire in spite of the fact of the anger he had knowingly instilled in her. Immediately, he was met with the contents of Claire's glass splashed on his face, and as he wiped away at his face, sputtering and swiping with his sleeve, he heard Claire slam the glass down on the table and storm past him. He roved his sleeve roughly over his eyes one more time before striding up behind her as she made to leave the den, but she had enough of a head start and got out the doors, out into the main hallway before Lex caught up with her. To stop her in her tracks, he caught her like he always did by her forearm, but when she turned to face him and they were no longer inside the den - inside the place Lex thought of as a place of power - he found himself tensing at the sight of the anger in Claire's eyes. His eyes darted to Claire's free hand at her side, now clenched in a fist - the sight of the fist set off an alarm in Lex's mind.

" _Do it_."

His voice was a low near-whisper, and his eyes were still fixated on Claire's clenched fist. Some small part of him meant what he'd said. He wanted her to do it because if she did, if she lashed out and hurt him, then he would be free of her. He would no longer harbor this thought that she was some embodiment of goodness and concern, and he could go on to believe what he had always believed. But, Lex noted with surprise that he no longer bothered to conceal, Claire did no such thing. She unclenched her fist and gently pulled her arm out of his grasp.

"I'm not going to do that," Claire said knowingly, taking a step back from Lex and gently shaking her head as she looked over his dumbfounded expression. "I don't want to hurt you. I just want to get away from you."

"Where are you going to go?" Lex asked. Now, it was Claire who looked suddenly taken aback by the fact that this time, it wasn't sardonic or taunting. For the first time, it sounded as though he actually had some interest in her answer - some level of concern for what was going to happen to her if she walked out of the mansion at that point.

"I don't know," she replied honestly.

"That's not a good enough answer."

"Why not?"

Claire retaliated with a piercing stare - and she wasn't stupid. She knew that this was only happening as a result of something growing between herself and Lex Luthor. But he couldn't say as much, he could speak in deeply coded riddles and epithets. She saw Lex's jaw clench, his lip curl as he fought back a sneer in processing the question she was asking him.

For once, she wanted him to just say something - to give her some semblance of hope that there could be some level of normalcy in their interactions. Claire hadn't held it against him that he lacked the ability to simply speak to her, that he struggled with whatever it was he struggled with - but there were times that she was simply exhausted with the day-to-day feeling of being tugged like a yo-yo in the hand of a child.

She could see it. Claire could practically see a genuine, human answer turning the gears in his head - but she could see him quickly begin to restrain it as soon as it began to take shape, and she knew immediately that she should be wary of his answer. That she should yes, but knowing that something lay beneath, whether or not she could was a different issue. Back and forth, it was as though each was pleading with one another silently to say something true - something real - and neither was willing to acquiesce.

"You and I aren't that different, Claire," Lex said walking a few paces closer, starting to slowly pace and circle around her. "You've had _everything_ taken from you - everything you've built as a stepping stone to climb out of a life you hated. A life that made you feel utterly diminutive. _Am I getting close_?" he asked, leaning his face close to hers and almost tauntingly wagging his index finger in her face, smirking a little at the sickly expression she now bore in response to him. "You play the Wendy to my Peter Pan but in the end, we're both lost."

Claire fell silent for a few seconds before drawing a shuddering breath, clenching her eyes shut for a few seconds to regain her bearings before shaking her head and meeting Lex's gaze.

"You're really good with words, Lex," she said in a matter-of-fact but almost sorrowful tone. "And I'm not going to pretend you're not getting into my head. You are. But that's not enough anymore."

Her shoulders drooped momentarily before she started walking away towards the door, leaving a nonplussed Lex Luthor in her wake.

" _I have nothing left_."

The statement came in a near-whisper, so quiet that Claire wasn't sure she'd actually heard it but hesitated in her steps nonetheless without turning back. Claire didn't hear Lex take any steps closer to her to attempt to stop her again, but instead heard the same voice - childlike and almost fearful - speak as though coming from somewhere very far away.

"I have nothing and no one left. Bruce Wayne is sinking his teeth into _my_ city, capitalizing on everything _I've_ dedicated my life to building and rebuilding a thousand times over," Lex said through gritted teeth - and for the first time, Claire heard a quality in his tone that felt _real_. "No one sees these _heroes_ for what they really are the way I do. No one except you. You know that Batman isn't a hero, don't you, Claire?" he asked, and finally, almost in resignation, Claire turned around to face him again to see that he was not smiling. He was not smirking. His face was blank, almost quivering. "If you walk away, I have no one else, Claire. You're my most valuable ally. You're my _only_ ally."

It stirred something in Claire. _Could_ she walk away when Lex had no one else? In her own mind, she felt she had brought this upon the pair of them - made him dependent on her in many ways, knowing who and what he was, and now that she no long could deal with it, she was throwing in the towel and trying to leave. Just like.

_No_ , her mind seemed to roar violently. She was not willing to be her mother. And maybe some part of her knew that Lex was well aware of this being her greatest weakness, but in this moment, she had a choice to make that was hers. It was not an ideal choice. It was not an easy choice. But she had it. In a mixture of both resignation and resolution, she strode past Lex, away from the door, back towards the heart of the house and retreated back into the guest suite, shutting the door behind her.

She wasn't leaving, Lex realized - his expression softened. She perhaps hated him a little more than she had this morning - and Lex felt a pang of something unpleasant at the thought of _this morning_ , when he had been the recipient of her warmth, her laughter, her genuine desire - but she was not leaving.

"All in due time," he muttered to himself before retreating back to his father's study. "All in due time."


	21. Chapter 21

The acerbic sting of exceptionally aged liquor was something that Bruce Wayne had no shame in turning to for solace - and now as he sat in study, he perhaps valued the relief more than usual. It had been a fair few days since he'd caught word of the fact that Claire Branigan had resigned from the nursing agency and practically fallen off the edge of the Earth, which for all intents and purposes likely meant she had become either Lex Luthor's ally or his next victim. More than likely, both.

Diana Prince had long been withdrawn from mankind and had made the decision long ago because she'd started to conclude that people had stopped caring. The Bruce Wayne she saw in front of her, however, did not have the appearance of a man who did not care what was happening. He was clearly distraught, even if he would not be able to admit as much.

"Bruce," she said, seated in an armchair across the table from him - they had taken to meeting on a regular basis to discuss their plans moving forward, though these meetings always involved caution and distance. "What's done is done."

"We were supposed to have eyes on Luthor at all times - that's why we arranged for him to be out of prison, so we could watch him out in the open," he said with brooding bitterness to his voice before taking another swig from his drink. "Now we have nothing, and we've practically thrown Claire like a carcass to the wolves."

"People will only stand to be used for so long,' Diana admitted with a sigh, shaking her head, and Bruce looked up in surprise at the fact that the woman didn't rub in his face that she had told him so long before. From the very beginning, Diana had misgivings about the way they had decided to manipulate Claire. Diana had every right to shove the miscalculation in Bruce's face. There was a time, he noted bitterly, that he would not have allowed this to happen - but in recent years, the mistakes seemed to become more frequent... and more dire.

Lex Luthor did not value people - and Bruce knew now that the girl he had thrown into Luthor's midst was perhaps looking for someone to save. It was in her nature, and Bruce had had pushed it too far.

Diana, however, saw this turmoil in him and frowned. "Don't take this burden upon yourself, Bruce," she began smoothly. "We made the wrong move. It was our mistake -"

" _My mistake_ ," Bruce corrected, his eyes drifting shut briefly. "It was my mistake."

" _Our mistake_ ," Diana insisted, closing the laptop in front of her and crossing her legs before gently leaning forward towards Bruce to ensure her point came across. "We're a team now, Bruce. I don't know why that is so difficult for you accept."

"I work alone."

"Not anymore," Diana retorted sharply, her strong features pulling slightly into a frown. "You brought us together. You asked for me and the others to stand with you - you don't have a choice anymore. This is your duty, Bruce. This is what you owe Superman, isn't it?"

The words seemed to hit Bruce hard - to be frank, he no longer wanted to have a team. He no longer wanted to feel responsible for anyone counting on him. He had come in strange way to prefer the new role he had taken. He was a punisher, not a hero. He ensured that those who had already done wrong received what was coming to them, and that was why he was fixated so wholly on the idea that Lex Luthor needed to face justice for what he had done. He did not want to be counted on to save anyone. He did not want to be counted on to protect anyone. Being a hero was a job reserved for men like Superman - like Clark Kent - and it was a job at which, Bruce was very sure, most were doomed to fail.

Bruce was too wary to face another failure in being a protector or a hero. He had failed Jason, and Jason had paid with his life. One failure was enough.

Yet now, he could not deny that Diana was correct. The duty had now been thrust upon him and he could no longer reject it because the consequences of doing so was potentially more destruction and pain than he could ever avenge once it was wrought. There was nothing to do except to move forward in this new role that had been laid as a burden on his shoulders.

"We need to get a hold of Doctor Stone," he said in resignation before taken an even longer drink from his glass so that now it was nearly empty - and Diana had to admit she felt some level of pity on Bruce Wayne, as though he were some sort of sad, caged creature. While his age was merely a speck compared to her many years, there was a weariness to him that gave the air of an age far greater than what he possessed. "Barry's lead is the best that we have. If the Netherlands is the last place that they've made contact with Silas Stone -"

"- then I will go with you," Diana said simply, and at this Bruce looked up to see a placid expression on the woman's face, which quickly transformed into a Mona Lisa-esque, almost smug smirk. "To make sure the job is done right."

One could not survive centuries of witnessing sadness without developing some level of a sense of humor, and her ability to somehow inject humor, however dry, into their plight was something valuable and much needed.

"Your confidence in me is astounding, Miss Prince," Bruce quipped in response. Amused by the change in tone, Diana allowed her smirk to widen as she cocked her head to one side.

"I make a point of never sending a boy to do a woman's job."

* * *

Lex Luthor had initially been pleased that Claire had decided not to leave - he'd considered it a win, especially when she had been mere yards from the door, and he had managed to play his ace at precisely the right time.

In the days that followed, however, she had become like a ghost in his home - she did not leave, but she was rarely sighted outside of the door of the guest suite. She confined herself like some sort of prisoner in the room, coming out only occasionally to eat.

Admittedly, there had been a few instances that Lex had lurked in the kitchen for a while to wait for her to emerge, knowing that at some point she would have to, and in one of their few interactions, he had presented her with his new proposal for the future of their partnership.

If she agreed to work for LexCorp, now that she was for all intents and purposes a free agent, he would make her the Project Lead for any endeavor of her choosing - he trusted her enough, after all, to make a sound decision that would not run his company into the ground. It would give her an opportunity to get all of that philanthropy out of her system, Lex explained, because he felt more than anything, that was what she needed. Claire, however, had been wholly unimpressed and shrugged off the offer with a noncommittal, "I'll think about it."

And a couple of days later, when Lex had ventured in the morning into the kitchen after a fitful night of very little sleep, he found scribbled on a note on the refrigerator, back tonight.

By that time, Claire was on her way to Tranquil Oaks Cemetery in midtown Metropolis, to a particular headstone with the name Elias Branigan carved into the stone. Claire needed very much to get away from everything she had surrounded by in recent months. For once, Claire Branigan wanted very much to feel protected - and this was something she had not sought out for a very long time. She had not genuinely wanted to feel vulnerable and protected since the last time she had seen her father, because he had been the last person she had trusted to protect her. That was why she was here.

"I know. You're very, very disappointed in me," Claire said with a sad laugh, sitting cross-legged on the grass in front of her father's flat headstone - she'd had to pay fr it herself, years back, and couldn't afford much more. "I didn't think this would be me at this point in my life either. I know. I'm the girl who's staying with a guy who's all kinds of wrong because I have daddy issues. Because I still..."

Claire found that even though she had started talking as somewhat of a joke, poking fun at the absurdity behind her train of thought, her chest was tightening and her eyes were welling up with a familiar but unwelcome pressure and wetness.

"...I still hate that this is what happened to you. That I can't talk to you. That I'm talking to a piece of stone in the ground and pretending that anybody can hear it but me," she rambled, shaking her head. "And he needs me. He needs me like you needed Mom and I just want things to be different," she admitted, reaching out and placing her hand over her father's name. There was something strangely comforting about the fact that the smooth stone was not cold, but rather warmed by the sun.

It was good, she decided. And it had been a while since she had unconditionally and wholly thought that something was good. It gave Claire the smallest amount of hope that something could still be made out of the mess of a life that lay in pieces around her.

"Lex needs a little bit of saving. He needs a _lot_ of saving," Claire said, shifting and drawing her knees up to her chest. "But you know, he's... one of the most intelligent people I've ever met. He could do amazing things. He wants to do amazing things - in addition to very much less amazing things," she admitted. "But if I could help him, then it's like I did something amazing too. It's like I'm finally the ant that didn' get stepped on," she added with a weak laugh, though she found that in doing so, a few errant tears managed to escape her eyes and drift down her cheeks until she managed to wipe them away. "This is my chance to make a difference, isn't it? Just like you tried to do?"

The difference Claire was trying to make was still unclear - it was unclear if she wanted to save the world, or save one person in particular. It was unclear if she wanted to validate herself by succeeding where her father had failed, or where her mother had.

Claire's thinking out loud was interrupted, however, by the sound of a small yelp a small distance away, and when Claire turned to look for the source of the sound, she noticed a woman crouched in front of a tombstone with a figure of a cherub carved into the stone. The woman was crouching to pick up the flowers she had dropped, and out of reflex, Claire stood up and hurried over to help the woman, who she quickly realized looked very familiar.

"The wind's been a little crazy lately," Claire said with a friendly smile, helping the woman gather up the mums and sunflowers she had brought to the headstone. "I think the weather's been all over the place for this time of year."

"Yeah. Perfect kite-flying weather," the woman said vaguely, with a stuffiness to her voice that indicated that she had been crying a great deal in the very recent past. "Lucas would have loved it."

Claire found herself take a pause to glance at the headstone and note that it in fact belonged to a young boy. Lucas Bledsoe.

Reading the name made Claire freeze briefly in recognition as she realized how she recognized this woman - Lucas Bledsoe had been a patient at the Wayne Memorial Clinic, and Claire had seen him a good while back. A heart condition. A boy with a big smile, and clothes from the thrift store. The details seemed to slowly seep back, and the woman - Mrs. Bledsoe - seemed to see the recognition settling into Claire's face.

"His poor little heart just got too full for this great big world. That's what he told me at the very end," Mrs. Bledsoe said with a tearful smile. "He fought as hard as he could but I think even he knew that he was losing the fight."

"I'm so sorry," Claire said, turning and helping Mrs. Bledsoe put the flowers into the holders to adorn her young son's headstone. "I had no idea. I hadn't heard from you in a while... I can't believe..."

"It's not your fault," Mrs. Bledsoe interrupted, giving Claire's forearm a reassuring squeeze. "It's nobody's fault. We all tried our best for him. But his father lost his job, and I hardly make enough to make ends meet. We couldn't even afford his medicines - we didn't find out until the end that he'd been putting them back in the bottle and not taking them so he wouldn't ever run out."

And at this, Claire felt a new emotion surge inside of her - anger. The little boy hadn't died out of lack of people caring for him. He hadn't died because of having no one. He'd died because of money. He'd died because no matter how hard his parents had tried, the odds were stacked against them.

She realized in a heartbeat that the moments wherein she felt as strongly about something as she did right now were precious few. Why was this fair? Why was this allowed to happen?

Claire managed to conceal her outrage long enough to spend some time with Mrs. Bledsoe, helping her trim the grass around Lucas's headstone, to arrange the flowers, to talk about her son and how happy he had been in spite of his ailments. She talked a little about herself, and about how she was coming to see her father - Mrs. Bledsoe said that she would come and bring Mister Branigan flowers as well when she came by to visit Lucas. It appeared that for a moment, Claire had found some level of peace.

However, once Claire had gone back to the car and started back towards Luthor Mansion - towards what she now had to accept was her home - she found that she finally had an answer to Lex Luthor's question. If he was serious about his offer, and if there was no way she could get her old life back, then by all means, the best remaining option was to make the most of the power being offered to her.

Lex was seated in his father's study in silence when Claire came across him, taking purposeful strides until she was standing right in front of the armchair where he sat. A brief expression of surprise registered on his face, seeing Claire practically marching in to see him - perhaps he was even surprised that he was seeing her at all - but he quickly recovered and awaited what she had to say.

"I know what I want to do," Claire said simply, which earned an irk of Lex's eyebrow, and in turn, Claire rolled her eyes in exasperation. "You said I could take on any project I wanted with LexCorp if I agreed to stay, and I know what I want to do," she clarified. "I want the pharmaceutical division of LexCorp to take on making sure that no one in Metropolis dies because they can't afford medicines."

"A noble endeavor."

"If you want me to work for LexCorp then this is what I want to do," Claire insisted, and Lex smirked a little bit at the fact that she had clearly been practicing this speech and wanted to get the rest of it out of her system, despite the lack of resistance on his part. "You said I could choose what I wanted."

"Excellent listening comprehension - that is precisely what I said, Miss Branigan," he said, getting to his feet and planting his hands on his hips. "When can you start?"

"If you're not willing to - wait, what?" Claire asked, blinking in disbelief at Lex's response, pulling back slightly. "You know you're not going to profit from this, right?" Claire asked, raising an eyebrow. "You know that this is-"

"I know that this is a major philanthropic enterprise that as CEO of LexCorp, I am now entrusting to a qualified and competent division lead," he said with a shrug, taking a few steps closer to Claire. Her expression went slightly blank, as though she wondered how in the world it could be so easy - and Lex knew it would have precisely this effect on her. From time to time, he could be a man of his word, and in order to maintain this last alliance, it had to be one of those few times.

"Besides," he added. "I know you're not a vengeful person. You wouldn't intentionally run my business into the ground - and even if you would, clever as you are, you lack the business savvy to know how," he finished quickly and matter-of-factly.

He had to give her something that mattered to her. He had to give her just enough power to get her addicted to it, in order to make her stay. And somewhere farther below the surface, Lex was perhaps doing this because he knew it was something that Claire sorely needed. He didn't want the Claire he knew, who lent vitality to his plans, who somehow brought him peace in a way that no one had before, to wither away for lack of finding purpose.

He had succeeded in tearing her down, and now he was determined to succeed in rebuilding her into the partner and companion he needed. He drew himself up to full height and crossed his arms over his chest.

"I did tell you that you wouldn't regret choosing my side," he said, raising his eyebrows gently. "So if I were you, I'd retract your sentiments on trusting me."

"I won't be retracting anything I said."

"Nor will I," Lex replied with a smirk and a brief, mildly suggestive jolt of his eyebrows which brought a visible flush to Claire's cheeks. Particularly in Central City, there were things said that Lex certainly did not want retracted. There was something elusive, perhaps even mythical to Lex about having any figure in his life who was loyal, who was unconditional, and somewhere in his mind, there was a frenzied desperation not to lose the Claire that he had unearthed in Central City. She was his little bird, and he very much wanted to keep her - even if it meant clipping her wings and putting her in a cage.

He gently leaned closer so that his faces was dangerously close to hers for the first time in days - for the first time since all of these inconvenient truths began bubbling to the surface. "You and I can carpool to work. It'll be quaint. I look forward to it."

And as Lex Luthor walked out, leaving Claire dumbfounded very much like he had the first time he had kissed her in the elevator of her apartment building, she realized that she had in fact made a decision. There had been no catharsis, no eureka, no hallelujah chorus. It had been quiet, almost insidious, but somewhere along the way in these past days, she had truly and irreversibly chosen a side.


	22. Chapter 22

Lex encountered very few barriers in Claire's transition into a leadership role in the pharmaceutical division of LexCorp - his word, after all, was law, and his word had been that Claire was to be welcomed without question and allotted the amount of respect appropriate to her station.

Her first assignment had been to conduct a needs assessment for her proposed program, and for nearly a week, she had been up to her eyes in reports on common causes of death in Metropolis, and on the most in-demand medications. As Lex had promised - or, perhaps more appropriately, threatened - he and Claire had commuted into the office together every day, and he had admittedly taken note of her valiant efforts to do well on this project.

This was among the things he valued about her - whatever her initial motivations were that got her into situations, she never took them lightly. Duty was duty, and that, Lex decided, was an honorable value to possess. The immediate consequence of her undaunted dive into her new assignment, however, was that she ended nearly every day utterly exhausted. There'd been multiple instances that she'd been so soundly asleep in the passenger seat that Lex took the long way home, if only for the purpose of being around her peacefully in a manner he had not been able to since their return from Central City.

He had missed this.

One of the added benefits of this circumstance, however, was that when Claire slept, she slept heavy, which left an opening for Lex to conduct his business as he pleased without involving her in it. Their relationship was still without a doubt tenuous, and he certainly saw no need in making her privy to anything she could not yet handle.

This evening in particular, Lex was waiting by the front door, watching for the arrival of a familiar car - he opened the door to greet the new arrival, rather than running the risk of the doorbell going off and waking Claire. Lubrano stepped out of his beat up, blacked out Nova and walked up to the door, strangely cautious. He tilted his head in a half-bow as he stepped lightly up the steps to meet Lex Luthor, shaking his hand.

"Thank you, thank you, good sir," Lex said in a sing-song voice, gesturing Lubrano inside. "So good to welcome you to my humble abode. Come in."

"I don't think that's necessary."

"Well, that's where you are incorrect, Mister Lubrano, which is why you should allow me to do the thinking, hm?" Lex chuckled, cocking his head to one side. "Come in. I insist."

Lex showed Lubrano to the room he favored for important interactions - the study - and gestured for him to have a seat. While getting to pouring Lubrano a glass of bourbon, he hummed quietly to himself before glancing back over his shoulder at his guest. "I hope you brought the information I requested."

"For my contact in Cape Verde who's handling the shipment? Yes," Lubrano said, taking the drink offered to him by Lex Luthor, only taking a sip after Lex did first. "But as discussed, this information comes at -"

"A price, of course," Lex said with a laugh and dismissive wave of his hand before reaching into the inner pocket of his jacket and pulling out an envelope. Lubrano eagerly, almost hungrily snatched it from Lex's hand and opened it to thumb through the hundred dollar bills inside. Five stacks. Fifty thousand dollars. Lex kept his hand outstretched and made a come-hither gesture, irking his eyebrow expectantly. Lubrano hesitated slightly before reaching into his own pocket and handing a slip of paper to Lex. He immediately took it, and pulled out his phone to dial it. He couldn't, after all, let the man get away with providing him _false_ information. "Hello, hello - Alexander Luthor Junior. I hope you were expecting my call?"

Lubrano waited with gritted teeth, watching as Lex exchanged a few words over the phone on the number provided. Finally, Lex hung up and looked back at Lubrano with a vague grin. "Very good, my friend. Very good."

"I don't see why you couldn't just leave it to me to handle the transaction, Mister Luthor," Lubrano said shortly, taking another drink from his glass. "I'm handling affairs as quickly as possible."

"Don't be silly. This benefits us both - don't act like I've put you out of business," Lex snickered, tucking away his phone and the slip of paper. "I've paid you handsomely for this information and made your job infinitely easier, Mister Lubrano. Double the profit on half the work."

The two men stared one another down for a few moments in uncomfortable silence before Lubrano took the last swig of his bourbon and got to his feet. "I should be on my way, Mister Luthor."

"Are you sure?" Lex asked with a tilt of his head. "I'd hate to send you on your way if you've had a bit much to drink."

"I'm a grown man, Mister Liuthor," Lubrano chuckled smugly. "I can handle a drink."

"I'm sure you can, sir. I'm sure you can," Lex said, his smile twisting into a smirk, his eyes glinting slightly as he eyed Lubrano's movements. "I'll be in touch. Drive safe, now."

Lex made a bit of a show of walking Lubrano back to the front door, opening it for the man and waving him off into the night, watching as the old sketchy Nova departed from the driveway and down the hill outside of the wrought iron front gate. As Lex turned away from the door after Lubrano's departure, however, he saw Claire standing in the hallway just outside of her suite and staring at him questioningly - he tensed only momentarily, not having expected her, but quickly resumed his previous, casual stance.

"I've been watching the whole time. I was worried you'd poisoned the guy," Claire said honestly, taking a few small steps towards Lex, but maintaining a cautious distance.

"Oh, I did," Lex said offhandedly - almost brightly - as he walked over to Claire, crossing his arms and nodding as though he were proud of the fact. "He's just going to go into cardiac arrest on a secluded road somewhere between here and Gotham, and not on my kitchen floor. I certainly don't want to have to clean it up. I have work to do."

Lex reached into his pocket and looked at the slip of paper that Lubrano had given him with the contact information of the particular business associate he was trying to reach through Lubrano, gently holding up for Claire's scrutiny. "Sometimes you need to literally eliminate the middle man," he said.

Claire fought back the curling of her upper lip into a sickened sneer. She knew all along what kind of person Lex Luthor was, but she had never yet seen herself as being part of it. It had always been something she knew happened outside of her watch. Now, however, he proudly shared it with her. Like an accomplice. A partner.

She had everything she asked for - Lex had been true to his word of providing her with all the resources she needed to get her project under LexCorp Pharmaceuticals off the ground. The cost, however, was knowing that she received all of this in return for her willingness to turn a blind eye to the other aspects of his business, to not ask questions.

"Claire," Lex said, gently shuffling closer to her and crossing his arms again. "You know the world isn't a fair place. You said it yourself. We're just ants -"

"Don't use what I said against me, Lex. I know what I said," Claire said stiffly, as though physically holding back nausea.

"You," Lex began, reaching out and gently tapping his index finger on Claire's forehead, "are one of the most intelligent women I've ever met. You understand. If you don't want to be stepped on, then you need to be the one doing the stepping," he said in an almost sing-song tone. "Lubrano was going to bleed us dry. _Us_ ," Lex said, leaning his face in so that he was only about a centimeter from hers. "I protect what's mine. That's why you're here, isn't it?"

_Because_ , Lex thought to himself and Claire practically saw through his eyes, _you're mine_.

Claire jolted slightly, taking a step back and staring at Lex, unsure of whether she felt confusion or anger at the thought of being his - or if she felt something else entirely. She opened her mouth and attempted to speak, to respond, but when words didn't come, she was surprised when Lex reached out and grabbed her by the hand, pulling her down the main corridor of the mansion towards the stairs to the utility kitchen - to the door next to the server room. Claire remembered this spot well - it was the door that he'd instructed her not to go past on her very first day in the mansion. It was time for a token gesture... and another test.

"I'm getting the impression that you have some... unanswered questions," Lex said offhandedly, reaching into his inner coat pocket and pulling out a key and opening the door. "And I want you to be nothing less than a full partner in my monkey business, Claire. So..."

He chuckled a little to himself before pushing open the door and revealing a computer control room with a large screen and an extensive panel of controls. He laid his palm on the panel and a light came on while it scanned his handprint.

"...welcome to my inner sanctum," Lex said with an almost dreamy grin, his gaze fixated and his face illuminated by the large screen, which immediately powered up to reveal the LexCorp logo. The door automatically shut behind Claire, which caused her to jump slightly in surprise and wheel around with the brief consideration of trying to walk out of the room until she thought better of it.

As angry as she was with Lex, Claire understood what was happening. Bit by bit, he was showing his most valuable secrets - he was still testing her, and always would, but only did so out of two emotions: first suspicion that she would not pass the tests, and second, hope that she would.

"This is why Bruce Wayne sent you to keep an eye on me - because he knows that I'm very good at doing my homework on people," Lex said casually, still standing as he used the navigation pad on the control panel to pull up a certain folder in particular. "I've made great strides in compiling data on potential metahumans here on Earth. Where they're hiding. What they're capable of. He got his hands on what I had, months ago..."

The screen began flicking through a summary of files contained within the folder, and Claire felt her chest tighten at the sight of a few familiar faces. Clark Joseph Kent, deceased. Diana Prince, the woman from inside the car when she'd first encountered Batman. Barry Allen, the young junior CSI that she'd met at Wayne Manor. Claire felt a little sick, realizing how far Bruce Wayne's plans had reached without her knowing she was a part of them.

"And Mister Wayne is already well on his way to gathering up quite a posse - but this is old data," Lex said with a knowing smirk before navigating to a set of files contained on a different server - one that Bruce Wayne had not managed to access on the night he infiltrated the Luthor Mansion server room. "It turns out that you don't become all powerful without making a few enemies."

And now, a new flurry of names and faces began tiling in the folder on the screen. Leonard Snart, Central City. David M., Cape Verde. Priscilla Rich, Washington D.C. The first name, Claire realized she recognized from their night in Central City - a night that she now could no longer think of without some lingering sense of turmoil. Lex turned to her and adjusted himself so that they were facing one another directly.

Claire could see, beneath the facade of the evil genius, he was desperately clawing for her acceptance - she could see that he would not have shown her to this room without the expectation of trustworthiness. Lex, in turn, saw the softening of her expression as her gaze flicked back and forth between him and the screen.

"I had initially meant to expose these metahumans for the threat that they are," Lex said offhandedly. "But it now appears that Mister Wayne has his own intentions for the use of that information - and I cannot leave myself unprotected."

"Cape Verde," Claire repeated with a deep breath. "The shipment from Cape Verde was never an antique, was it?" she asked. "It was a person. This... David M."

"Precisely. And because Lubrano got greedy, the arrangement of the arrival of this particular shipment has been woefully delayed," Lex said with a gesture of his forefinger. "But that will soon be remedied."

"Lex, you just murdered someone -"

"No, I just _killed_ someone," Lex corrected, closing his eyes and holding up a hand to silence Claire. "It's only murder when you're convicted and I never will be."

"Is that so?" Claire asked, her eyes narrowing in disdain. "Because for someone as afraid as you are of prison, you're playing awfully fast and loose with the possibility of going back, Lex -"

"Lubrano is going to die in a car crash, and he's going to have a blood alcohol level well above the legal limit. The real cause of death is going to be a special synthetic toxin formulated by yours truly that no one has knowledge of or means to test for," Lex interrupted, rambling rapidly. "So the only way I could go from being a killer to being a murderer is if someone in this room sings like a little bird. Does that sound like something that you would do, Claire?"

"No, it does not sound like something I would _fucking_ do, Lex," Claire sneered, leaning close to Lex to make sure the point was made - it made no sense, because telling would be without a doubt the right thing to do, but it deeply offended her that he would accuse her of being willing to do it. "But I'm scared for you, alright? You're getting in over your head and you're not going to be able to dig your way out -"

"I don't need anyone to be scared for me -"

"Well, too bad," Claire interrupted with a slicing gesture of her hand, now clearly having had enough. "The past few months, I have done nothing except do what I could to keep your safe and you've been down here trying to play mastermind because it gives you a little bit of a power high -"

"A power high?" Lex asked, his eyes narrowing - he took a few steps forward so that he was again hovering over Claire's more petite form, staring her down questioningly. "You think this is that menial? You think I would waste my time on something that was not on the level of _earth-shattering_ ," he asked in a near-snarl. "This is about balance. Every force requires an opposing force to keep it in balance. That's what protects the powerless - and there is to date no force that opposes the conglomerate of power that Bruce Wayne is putting together, just like there was no force to oppose Superman. And that is where I come in. Because I'm the only one who sees it, Claire."

Silence settled between the pair as it frequently had in recent days - they stood on thin ice, poised precariously between the intimacy of what they'd shown of themselves in Central City and the reality of the lives they led at home in Metropolis. Claire opened her mouth and was prepared to try to speak, but found herself interrupted - she was forced to brace herself onto the table when she felt the ground beneath them begin to shake - first subtly, then violently.

Claire reflexively dropped to the ground and made her way under the table as the ground continued shaking - the monitors mounted on the walls and the tower-high shelves of server equipment groaned and clinked as the violent shaking of the ground continued prying them loose.

The next few moments felt as though they were moving forward in slow motion - Claire quickly realized that Lex had frozen in place without any idea of what to do, his eyes darting around at the unsteady fixtures around him. The overhead light fixture came loose at one end, and, seeing the other side beginning to give way as well, Claire came out from under the table, getting to her feet slightly to grab Lex's arm and pull him down to the ground so they could take cover underneath the table.

"Didn't they teach you what to do during in earthquake in kindergarten?"

"I had a private tutor, I didn't _go_ to kindergarten!"

Claire panted slightly and held onto one of the bolted down legs of the table as the shaking continued, flinching with every clash and clang of the equipment falling down on top of the table. Lex followed suit in holding onto a leg of the table, but found himself puzzled by the fact that Claire had sounded genuinely fearful.

Releasing the leg of the table she was holding onto, even as the ground though the ground was still shaking, Claire crawled across the floor to him, her gaze focused - she reached out and pushed his hair away from his face, looking him over with great concentration and intention.

"Are you hurt?" she asked, grabbing Lex's hands and glancing them over as well, then brushing his shoulders which were smattered with flakes of paint and debris. It was only when the ground finally stopped completely in its shaking and the crashes stopped that both Lex and Claire realized that this was the first she had touched him again since they'd gotten off of the jet from Central City.

"I'm... fine," Lex said, and for a moment, Claire pulled back and the pair simply looked at one another. Fear and desperation brought out the side of people that was real, and this was real. Claire cleared her throat and got back to her feet, getting out from under the table, back to her feet. Lex came out from under the table and had the opportunity for a few seconds to survey damage - nothing drastic, nothing that could not eventually be replaced, but a definite inconvenience. However, before he could give a complete appraisal, he felt a swat on his shoulder - he wheeled around to see Claire eyeing him with annoyance. It was not anger - but more exasperation. Frustration.

"You can't just freeze like that - you scared me," Claire said in tight, higher-pitched tone, shaking her head fervently. "God, Lex..."

She gave a frustrated groan and moved past the fallen fixtures to force the door back open, striding out of the control room and back up to the main hallway, back into her room. Lex followed her out, admittedly confused by her actions, and realized she had left the door to the room open, having gone inside to turn on the television set to the news. Her actions left him again with that unsettled feeling of wondering why it seemed to matter so much what he did - what could have _happened_ to him. She avoided eye contact with him as she turned up the volume of the television set.

"This just in from our sister networks in the Midwest," the newscaster said, her expression grave. "A series of earthquakes have been hitting across the country, in locations that are not connected by any known faultlines. The United States Geological Survey is currently investigating the conditions of these quakes, and we'll keep our viewers posted as details arise."

"It's happening..." Lex muttered under his breath. "It's finally happening."

Claire turned around to see Lex looking pale, but at the same time with a strange smile tugging at his lips - and seeing him this way was something that unsettled Claire immensely. Moments ago, she had been frustrated with him, but now, the familiar sense of worry washed over her as she walked back across the room to stand in front of him.

"Lex?"

The sound of his voice from her mouth, spoken in that tone, never failed in pulling Lex out of his dazes. He snapped to attention and stared at her questioningly - the only coherent thoought that formed in his mind was the thought of wondering where such an emotion was coming from.

"Why do you do that?" He asked through slightly gritted teeth, his brow furrowing. "Why are you looking at me that way -"

"Because I'm scared for you!" Claire said with a wide, frustrated gesture of her arms. "Because I'm worried about you!"

"Why?"

At this, Claire froze again - a small part of her, buried deep in her mind, had a very simple answer, but it was not an answer that she was ready to give him to use as a weapon for future use. Not now. Not yet. Her jaw clenched slightly, and she shook her head dismissively. Apart from this answer, there was nothing else she could offer - it was no longer a job. This was a choice, and one she could not explain why she was making.

"I don't want anything to happen to you," she said stiffly. "If I did, I wouldn't be doing any of this."

And that was all. Claire was not one to talk about her own feelings, and of all the places she could start, it wasn't going to be with Lex Luthor. Not now. She took care of other people's feelings, made other people feel safe. She didn't seek that out from others. It was just the way of things.

Lex may not have been the most receptive of individuals when it came to the feelings of others, but he was not blind. Claire didn't need to say any more. Lex again closed the space between them and walked over, placing his hands with surprising softness on either side of Claire's face, tilting her face up so she had no choice but to look at him.

And for the first time in what had been days but had felt like years, he briefly pressed his lips to hers.

"Every king," he began, raising his eyebrows gently and nodding slightly as he spoke after pulling back, taking advantage of Claire's stunned silence, "needs a queen. And you, Claire, are _mine_. Didn't I tell you that everything was about balance? It was something my father lacked," Lex added before he could help himself. He withdrew his hands, running one over his hair and then shoving them into his pockets. Claire saw the sudden shift in him - the sense of being overcome with agitation and fear, his eyes flitting around as though he could be heard by someone just for having mentioned his father.

"Lex -"

"If my mother had been alive - if she'd balanced all of my father's roughness and power and..." Lex's voice trailed off, and Claire felt a slight chill as slowly, pieces of a theory she had slowly been piecing together in the time she had known Lex were beginning to come together. There was a reason he didn't understand the concept fo being cared for, there was a reason he did not sleep even in his own home, there was a reason he always tested and never trusted. And there was a look in Lex's eyes when he looked at Claire now, almost as though daring her to ask.

Not daring. Asking. Pleading. Some part of him wanted to be asked - a feeling Claire knew well. A feeling of just wanting an invitation to say _everything_ and be rid of it, even when you know you would never actually be rid of it.

And Claire came close to complying until another abrupt buzz came from the television set which was still on, and both Claire and Lex turned to face it as the newscaster reappeared.

"This just in," she spoke up again. "The USGS has confirmed that the latest in the string of widespread earthquakes were centered in Central City, Missouri, and in Smallville, a rural town in Lowell County, Kansas that's known as the Meteor Capital of the World."

And again, Lex took pause in hearing the news, while Claire realized that she had missed the opening - but she stored her questions away in the back of her mind. Lex crossed his arms over himself in an almost defensive, protective stance while he regarded the television screen, and Claire immediately recognized how quickly the events of the evening were unraveling - how overloading it had to be for him, despite his insistence that he was in control of every moving piece.

By now, Claire understood that Lex needed to believe this, and she had more reason than ever to justify her actions. He did need her. Claire knew on some level that this cat-and-mouse, this ebb-and-flow, was something that couldn't last. She knew that straddling the line without choosing whether or not she was _with_ him would only wreck them both. He was too vulnerable and she was too frank for these kind of games. A choice had to be made, and made soon. Made _now_.

"Listen," she said with a heaving sigh, pinching the bridge of her nose and gently shutting her eyes. "I'm really tired. I think I've had enough for the day."

Lex eyed her with a small amount of confusion at the fact that she had no more fight left in her - she had simply dropped the subject. Every subject. She no longer wanted to discuss what had happened to Lubrano, or what she had seen in the control room, or his near-slip about his father. She had nothing else to say.

For the first time, Lex felt a genuine sneaking suspicion that he was losing her. However, her resignation seemed to creep into him as well, and he gave a short curt nod, turning around and starting for the door.

He'd miscalculated, he started to think. Lex began to realize that if he was losing her now, after he had made her privy to the inner workings of his plans, things would need to become messy. Things would need to fall apart, and they would need to be cleaned up afterwards.

"Lex?"

He visibly flinched, having just stepped outside of the guest suite and placed his hand on the edge of the door to close it behind him when Claire's voice said his name - said it in that tone - again. He turned around and saw her sitting on the edge of the bed, gently wringing her hands in her lap.

"Maybe," she said, her face somewhere between frowning and peaceful blankness. "You - you know what, never mind."

"What?"

"I was just wondering. Maybe you could stay here?" she asked with feigned nonchalance, attempting to shrug but instead managing only to look forced and jerky in her movements. "I just... you know. In case something happens again. Safety in numbers."

Lex noted another first - the first time anyone had actually asked him to stay with them, rather than letting him leave with a sigh of relief, rather than openly wanting him to leave. He gave a cough-like, dismissive laugh but stepped back into the room, closing the door behind him. Claire managed a small, lopsided grin and nodded for him to join her on the bed.

Lex would be the first to say that he was wholly unaccustomed to people surprising him. However, once he was again pressed close to the warmth of Claire's small figure, his arm draped over her waist, the scent of her hair again filling his lungs as he breathed in, he decided that in some instances, being surprised by a person was not necessarily a failure on his part. Sometimes, in very rare, infinitesimally seldom moments, there were people who were perhaps worth trusting.


	23. Chapter 23

Lex could not have explained why, when he woke up in the guest suite without anyone in the bed with him, he felt extremely perturbed at Claire's absence. For a brief moment, there was a gnawing, irrational fear that he had made a poor judgment, that his estimation of her loyalty had been faulty and she had disappeared with all of his secrets in tow. He wouldn't have been entirely surprised - some small part of him expected it after the night before. Lubrano was, without a doubt, lying dead somewhere on the roadside - his death, very conveniently, would likely be attributed to the prior night's earthquake and his inebriation. That, however, was something that Lex had very much expected Claire to be unable to handle hanging over her head. It just meant that she would need to be handled.

These fears were quickly shut down, however, when Claire emerged from the bathroom, clearly dressed for work, brushing her hair with a toothbrush hanging out of her mouth.

"Sorry - did I wake you?" Claire spoke up, her voice garbled while she tried to keep one side of her mouth closed around the toothbrush. There was nothing elegant about her in the slightest in this moment - she was rushed and multitasking... and vulnerable. Unguarded. "I just really need to get into the office early - I had the hairdryer on low, I didn't think it was that loud -"

"We don't leave for another two hours," Lex said matter-of-factly, sitting up in bed and allowing himself to feel the relief that washed over him that Claire had in fact not bolted at the first opportunity, when he was in no position to stop her. But now, without it becoming a topic of conversation at all, it appeared that they had turned a corner - Claire had made a decision about her place in the grander scheme of things, and had come to accept whatever came with it. "If anything at the office required us rushing there because of the earthquake, we would've gotten word much sooner. Why are you in such a hurry?"

"I was going to take my car because I have about a hundred medical offices to visit if I'm gonna finish the report by the due date that you set - thank you for that, by the way," she rambled, putting the hairbrush down and finally pulling the toothbrush out of her mouth and placing all of her morning routine paraphernalia on the bathroom counter. Lex's expression looked briefly bemused at the fact that she was so comfortable around him - that this was the way people acted in their natural habitats, with their guard lowered and their most natural tendencies on the surface. "And I was going to leave early because I'm never going to get anywhere in Metropolis rush hour. I'll probably have all the site visits done by one-thirty if I leave... ten minutes ago, crap," Claire groaned, now skittering around the room and throwing things into her laptop bag for work.

Lex smirked a little - he was still of the opinion that a little chaos was in fact attractive on her, because it made her seem less surreal. More vulnerable. More human. Moreover, the seriousness with which she approached her work with LexCorp had surpassed his expectations. He had, in truth, given her oversight over the pharmaceutical project as a means of pacifying her, but the more she did, the more Lex realized that she was in fact more savvy than she let on and was on her way to building a robust business venture that LexCorp would benefit from in spades.

"I'll check in at the front desk right when I get into the office, I promise, but I really have to go. I'll see you when I get there," Claire said quickly, slipping into her shoes and slipping across the room, leaning over and planting a sneak attack of a kiss on Lex's lips before she scurried out of the guest suite. The action was a simple one, and a casual one, but left Lex feeling strangely stunned. There was such a normalcy about it, a normalcy that Lex thought was only for other people to experience because he was already well-acquainted with the impression others had of him. Claire treated him as though she considered him human, and in some instances did so without batting an eyelash. Lex had known for a long time that he was not a person who a woman in her right mind would ever wake up next to without ulterior motive, would ever kiss goodbye without expectation of reward.

He had known these things, and known them for certain.

This meant that either Claire was not in her right mind, or that he had been wrong. That he _was_ human, that he _was_ worth some level of kindness and a kiss goodbye.

For the first time, being wrong was something that made Lex Luthor feel the tiniest bit hopeful.

* * *

"Hello there, stranger."

Lois Lane couldn't help but smile at the sound of Martha Kent's voice on the other end of the phone line - after the news about the earthquakes broke the night before, Lois had tried calling Martha immediately, knowing that the woman lived alone and was in the epicenter of a large quake. When Martha didn't answer, Lois had admittedly stayed up all night, and was by now supremely exhausted but relieved that when she called at a more reasonable hour, Martha had picked up.

"I just wanted to make sure everything was alright out there," Lois said honestly with a slightly sheepish laugh, knowing it had been weeks since she had called Martha. "I saw on the news that the quake hit pretty hard."

"I think it's the element of surprise that hit folks out here harder than anything," Martha said with that frank, easy laugh that made Lois more than willing to think of the woman as a mother. "Earthquakes aren't common 'round these parts."

The silence that followed, however, struck Lois because normally, it would have been filled with chatter about the other ladies in town, or about how an old neighbor dropped by to catch up. Now, Martha Kent was extremely quiet, and Lois gently cleared her throat to feel out if perhaps the call had gotten dropped.

"Are you sure nothing's wrong, Martha?" Lois asked gently, and unexpectedly, she heard the sound of a sniff on the other end of the phone. Lois felt her heart clench.

"The damage at the cemetery's pretty bad," Martha admitted in a shaky voice. "Heard from them earlier this morning. They said they'd repair anything they needed to, free of charge, but... you know, I don't think they'd have wanted it that way."

Lois knew immediately what Martha meant, and agreed without question. Clark Kent - and Jonathan by extension, Lois was sure even without having known him - wouldn't have wanted anyone to be hassled on his account. It was one of the things Lois most loved about him.

"I think you made the right call," Lois said, surprised to find herself choking up as well. "I - I think it's better that way."

It was now that Lois allowed herself to realize that she and Martha felt the same thing in that moment - extreme and complete loneliness. Even surrounded by friends and people who wished the best for them, who wanted them to stay busy and get back on their feet, both of them were terribly and hopelessly lonely in a way that only the other could understand.

"Do you... want to come out for a visit? For a weekend or something?" Lois asked suddenly before she could help herself, feeling herself pulled to want to cling a little more tightly to the woman because Martha Kent was one of the few ties Lois had left to hold onto of Clark. "It's - it's not a big deal or anything. But I thought it might be -"

"I'd like that," Martha said with a weak, obviously tearful laugh. "A little mother-daughter time. Can't say I know what that feels like," she added. Lois felt her heart immediately both swell and shatter at the fact that Martha, too, thought of her as family. "Just let me know when's best, Lois. I know how busy you city slickers get. I'm just right here."

It took all of Lois's composure to keep herself from breaking down into tears until after she got off the phone with Martha. She struggled for a good while to turn off the switch of emotion that had been inadvertently flicked on, but was soon at least put back together enough to make her way to work.

Perry did his best to treat Lois as normally as he could, but there were times that even he could not muster the ability to bark orders at Lois, to be harsh and deliver tough love, as he put it, the way he usually did. There was still something that felt amiss, seeing her in the conference room without Clark. Clumsy, aw-shucks Clark Kent who always seemed apt to trip over himself just getting Lois's coffee for her. But Perry had promised normalcy, and by God, he was trying. Lois Lane was one of his best, and he wanted her back.

"We have one assignment left," he said, looking at a file folder in his hands and visibly tensing, peering up of the edge of the glasses and putting it down. "Fogarty," he said pointing his index finger in the direction of one of their new correspondents who, if Lois's memory served, had little to no field experience. "This one is probably something for you -"

"You're not even going to let anyone else call dibs?" Lois spoke up in characteristic Lois Lane fashion, laughing slightly to herself and taking a swig from her coffee. Her expression fell, however, when Perry did not respond - not with amusement, not with annoyance, not with anything.

"Front page of the business section is going to be a spread on LexCorp's latest pharmaceutical project. It's big buzz lately," Perry said cautiously. "Big philanthropy paired with Luthor's colorful past few months is as good a story as we've been able to get these days. Been quiet on every other front -"

"I want it," Lois interrupted, her face shifting into a frown. "I want the LexCorp story."

And the table fell silent - not because they felt Lois Lane was incapable, because no one here with a modicum of experience would think that of Lois Lane, but because they knew that her grudge against Lex Luthor, for reasons that were still unclear to them, very personal.

Perry White would never admit it, but he had a soft spot for Lois Lane, like a stubborn daughter that pissed him off to no end yet never managed to do so to extent that would shake off his protectiveness over her. And this was how, he realized, she was going to heal. The only thing she loved almost as much as she had loved Clark Kent was her work.

"You got it, Lane. I want it finished copy ready to print. Tomorrow. Interview's set at LexCorp for two o'clock."

Two o'clock gave Lois an ample amount of time to prepare for her interview. She had admittedly been insulating herself from news about Lex Luthor and his business ventures because they were too close to home until now, and so, she was less privy to information about goings-on as she would have liked. However, a brief review of local news and correspondence from sources was clear enough - LexCorp was in the process of developing a new line of pharmaceutals aimed towards the poor and disadvantaged of Metropolis.

Now, it was a preconceived notion for certain, and preconceived notions were often the downfall of good journalism, but Lois was certain that Lex Luthor wasn't just taking pity on the ailing poor of Metropolis out of the goodness of his heart, and she was willing to suspend her journalistic integrity at least slightly to pursue her hunch.

So with a game plan in mind, Lois called a cab to take her to the LexCorp main offices.

This place, Lois was convinced, was the epitome of the saying that looks could be deceiving. It was a bright, building with abundant windows, lobby seating, a basketball course - all of the employees she passed in the facility seemed happy to be there, save for a surly young woman with short hair, almost shaved on one side, manning the front desk. Her name badge read _Trixie_.

"Lois Lane, Daily Planet," Lois said, showing the young woman her badge. "Mister Luthor should be expecting me."

"You're early."

"I was wondering if he could accommodate any extra time -"

"He's in a meeting right now. I can let him know you're here but - no promises," the younger woman said shortly. "Feel free to hang around. Shoot hoops or something."

Lois was admittedly surprised by the dismissive treatment from the staff here. Granted, she was used to being less than welcome when she arrived to conduct interviews because as a reporter she was easily perceived as a snoop and a threat. Had Lex directed his staff to be short with her? Lex Luthor had certainly been effective in developing a particular culture among his staff - urban, twenty- and thirty-something professionals for the most part with an obsession with recognition and 'working smart'. It didn't seem too farfetched to imagine that they worshipped the ground that their CEO walked on.

These musings were interrupted by the sound of the main doors opening and the clack of heels across the floor signalling someone else's arrival - a woman in well-tailored slacks, a pinstripe dress shirt with sleeves rolled up to her elbows, her hair braided off to one side casually. Then, catching sight of her face, Lois realized that the woman who had entered was no stranger.

"Afternoon!" Claire Branigan said brightly, shifting her bag on one shoulder with a cup of coffee held like a precious trophy in the other. As the younger woman breezed by the front desk and flashed her personnel badge, Lois realized that the young woman looked different than when she'd last seen her in the coffee shop. Busy, yes, and clearly working incredibly hard - but in a different way, looking more energized and alive than she'd been before, as though being around Lex Luthor had actually been good for her.

"Trixie, I'm so sorry to bug you. Can you let Lex know I just got here? I told him I'd check in when I got to the office," Claire asked politely, and it was evident that she was well liked - the erstwhile grousing college student at the front desk who had earlier been so brusque to Lois gave Claire a grin.

"Sure, Miss B," Trixie said, hitting a button on the phone intercom system and sounding strangely eager. "Do you want me to have him scoot his two o'clock to two-thirty?"

"Nah," Claire said dismissively. "I'll catch up with him. Who's his two o'clock?"

"That'd be me," Lois spoke up as she strode over, finding that it took a surprising amount of gall on her part. "It's good to see you again, Claire."

"Miss Lane," Claire said in surprise. Almost like a watchful puppy picking up on the emotions of a master, Trixie seemed to grow suspicious as well, her gaze again becoming surly as Lois drew nearer. It was now that Lois realized that LexCorp as a whole was protective of its leader - and now, of Claire by comparison. Trixie's eyes were not the only ones that carefully watched the exchange from a small distance, as though prepared to intervene. "H-how... how are you?"

"Alive and paying the bills - looks like I could say the same for you," Lois said with a friendly, though perhaps somewhat forced laugh. It was bewildering to see Claire thriving in LexCorp of all places, but in a short span of time, she seemed to have become complete enfolded in it.

"Are you here for a story?" Claire asked, though she immediately rolled her eyes a little at herself, shaking her head and pinching the bridge of her nose. "Of course you are, I'm sorry. That's a dumb question."

"No, no, don't worry - guilty as charged," Lois said with a slight laugh, reaching out and giving Claire's forearm a reassuring squeeze. The girl had a quality about her that Lois admittedly warmed up to, even in spite of the fact that she was a willing collaborator with Lex Luthor. "My boss wants a feature by Friday on the new LexCorp pharmaceutical program -"

"Well," a recognizable voice piped in striding in from the opposite end of the room, across the basketball court, "then the lovely lady in front of you is the mastermind you seek - the woman behind the curtain, if you will," Lex said with a strangely reverent gesture as he stopped next to Claire and made a movement with his arms as though presenting her - showing her off. After the sweeping motion, he straightened up and placed his hands on his hips, tilting his head to one side. "My, my, Miss Lane. Aren't you a sight for sore eyes?"

Claire knew when the brightness in Lex's voice was meant to be antagonistic, and this was clearly one of those times - despite the fact that the rest of Lois Lane's face smiled politely, her eyes shot daggers in Lex's direction, and Claire felt a tugging at the pit of her stomach as though she needed to protect Lex from her.

"I appreciate you taking the time to speak with me, Mister Luthor," she said with prim stiffness, reaching her hand out for a handshake as was proper. It took her best efforts not to sneer in disgust when Lex made a gesture of kissing the back of her hand.

"Always a pleasure, Miss Lane."

"I don't take this interview lightly. I'm sure you're a very busy man," Lois said, making no motion to hide as she yanked her hand out of his grasp.

"Indeed. I always have been," Lex retorted. "But you know that better than most, don't you, Miss Lane?"

"I'm... gonna go," Claire said, clearing her throat and forcing a smile when she realized that she was currently standing in the middle of an extensive history with which she had little to no connection. "I still have a ton to do by the end of the day so I'm going to get cozy at my desk for a little while."

Claire moved to walk away and give an appropriate level of space to what was clearly a tense interaction, but before she could make a complete departure, Lex caught her by the forearm and gave her gentle tug, making a small show of planting a kiss on her right in front of Lois Lane. It was perhaps a show of dominance and victory over the woman who had tried so hard to thwart him - but at the same time, perhaps not about her at all. "I'll come by and get you when we're done."

"No rush," Claire said, gently giving Lex's arm a squeeze before walking off, leaving Lex alone with Lois who appeared to be losing by the minute her ability to maintain neutrality about what she was seeing.

"Well, make yourself comfortable, Lois. Can I call you Lois? I think we're there," Lex said with a smirk before waving her over to a set of hightop tables under a sunroof near the LexCorp basketball courts. "Have a seat. Oh," he said with exaggerated surprise as Lois obliged and began pulling her tape recorder out of her bag, pulling open the flap of her bag with her left hand. "Congratulations. Who's the lucky guy?"

Lois looked confused at first until she followed Lex's gaze down to her hand where she still wore the engagement ring that Martha had been keeping for Clark to give to her. Lois felt rage again boiling inside of her at Lex Luthor's nerve - the glint in his eye was proof enough that he even thought he was being humorous. But she had a job to do, and with great difficulty, she chose not to dignify the statement with a response.

"I'd really like to just have a few questions answered about LexCorp's new pharmaceutical program," Lois said, keeping her gaze high and focused. "So if you don't mind -"

"Oh. _Oh_ ," Lex said, resting his elbows on the table between himself and Lois, then clasping his hands so he had a place to rest his chin. "I wish we hadn't let Claire go back to her office - she's the mastermind behind the project. It's genius, isn't it? She couldn't be more perfect if I'd engineered her," Lex quipped with a smirk, but Lois was surprised to see that there was some extent of actual admiration in his expression - as though a part of him thought that Claire really was perfect.

"Claire Branigan is in charge of the program?" Lois pressed slightly. "A matter of weeks ago, she was still working as your nurse, wasn't she? That seems like a very fast transition. A fortuitous one -"

"Now, now," Lex said, adjusting and now wagging his index finger lazily in Lois's direction. "That seems like a very unfair accusation, Miss Lane. And here I thought you were all for girl power." Lex got off of the hightop chair with an unnecessary bounce to his step, starting to pace casually back and forth on a short line in front of Lois, tapping his chin in feigned deep thought. "I can already foresee the headlines about Claire, and I can tell you, I don't like them!" he said in a deceptively sing-song voice. "Now, that woman is extremely valuable to me, so I am going to nip this bad press brewing in the bud. Claire Branigan is the most qualified, best fit person to lead this project, and she was long before she and I became... involved," he added with a vague smirk as he paused in front of Lois and gently leaned in closer, his eyes gleaming with a predatory sort of excitement, having the upper hand in the conversation this way. "And she is excellent at what she does. _Everything_ she does," he added suggestively. "She didn't require a big strong man to bail her out of trouble to get a leg up in her career."

Lois's jaw clenched at the implication, pulling back slightly. She couldn't speak, at the risk of having it captured on a work-issued recorder and considered fair game for future record - and Lex knew that. Lois realized that this was the reason he was grinning at her in that way. It was an awful accusation, whether or not it was spoken outright, that Lois had built her career on stupid risks and the confidence that Clark - that Superman - would not allow anything to happen to her. In hindsight, it was unclear if these accusations were even completely false.

"I think I've heard enough, Mister Luthor."

"Oh, but I'm not finished, ace reporter!" the said, stepping in front of her when she tried to get out of her seat and picking her tape recorder up off of the table before she could shut it off. Lois, however, had now had enough of Lex Luthor's antics - she got to her feet anyway and snatched the recorder from his hands, shutting it off and shoving it into a pocket of her bag.

"Sooner or later, everyone's going to see through you. Claire is going to see through you - she's a smart girl," Lois said matter-of-factly. Their posturing, even if they weren't audible to those around them, drew attention to the fact that this interaction had grown very tense, very quickly. From the reception desk, Trixie , catching sight of their well-loved CEO clearly getting quickly in over his head, immediately had picked up the phone. "You think because you're out of prison, just because Clark is gone, you get to do as you please? Bruce Wayne isn't ramping up his presence in Metropolis for the bay views, Lex. I don't know what kind of hold you have on Claire Branigan, but she's too smart to stay blind to what you are for too long."

Lex's upper lip curled into a sneer, and he found his heart racing - pounding in his chest. However, he managed a nasal, forced laugh, shaking her head in Lois's direction. "Fiesty as ever. But I'm not afraid of whatever Bruce Wayne has planned. There are far worse problems coming than a tantrum from the Bat," he said in a low whisper.

"We'll see," Lois said with a defiant tilt of her head.

"Is something going on?" Came Claire's voice across the basketball court, accompanied by the click-clack of her heels on the court. "Gina paged me up and said that it was urgent?"

"My bad!" the receptionist called out from her desk. Claire paused a few yards away from Lois and Lex, quickly noting their posture and expression, then approached slowly.

"Sorry," she said with a sheepish laugh. "Didn't mean to interrupt."

"No - no interruption. I was just leaving," Lois said with convincing nonchalance, putting on a smile and reaching into her pocket and holding her business card out to Claire. "If you ever want to talk more about the LexCorp Pharmaceutical program - or if anything else comes up," Lois said with a meaningful glance in Lex's direction, "give me a call."

"Oh. Well," Claire said, clearing her throat and putting on a smile as well, though hers appeared more confused than please. "I'm sure Lex already gave you all the information he needed. I'm not cleared to talk to media. Too green," she shrugged. "But thank you."

Good answer, Lex couldn't help but think as Lois left the building, leaving him and Claire standing at the tables near the basketball court. Now, Claire's attention finally turned toward him, and in typical Claire fashion, a brief once-over caused her to sigh gently and tilt her head to one side, her eyes wrinkling at the corners the way they did when she was concerned. She reached out and squeezed his hand, which was still clenched at his side, and gently uncurled his fist.

"Do I want to ask how that went?" she asked with a gentle irk of her eyebrow, approaching the situation as casually as possible. Lex, however, responded with a smirk and shrug.

"Just another Lois Lane interview," he shrugged before sliding an arm around Claire's waist. "Now, since we have that out of the way, maybe I could convince you to play hooky for the rest of the day. I'm sure your boss wouldn't mind."

"Tempting," Claire smirked, reaching over and smoothing out the collar of Lex's shirt - it was a gesture that Lex surprisingly enjoyed a great deal, and he briefly considered tousling it intentionally from time to time so she would do it more often, because it allowed a moment where she was close to him, but focused on something else so intently that she would never realize that he was looking at her. "But I respect my boss too much to risk missing the deadline that he happened to set himself," Claire reminded him before gently placing another kiss on his lips. "I'll see you at home."

But even with the sense of relief that came with Claire's actions, Lex realized as she walked away back to her office that something in Lois Lane's words rang true.

Lex valued Claire greatly. He valued the sense of being valued by her even more. And the more they were in Metropolis, the more intersections between Claire's path and Bruce Wayne's path, Claire's and Lois Lane's path, the greater the risk that Lois's foreboding prediction would come true. If the influence of people like Lois and Bruce and those who surrounded them became too thick, it would be poison, Lex couldn't help but suspect, and this was one thing he would not stand to see poisoned - which meant that protecting Claire from their influence was of the utmost importance.


	24. Chapter 24

In the week since the earthquakes, which remained a mystery and anomaly, Claire's attention had been tuned with hyperfocus into completing the initial reports for the pharmaceutical program. Lois Lane's story on the program came out as planned with a headline that Claire had initially bristled at. _Luthor Jr. and Lady Friend: The New Face of Healthcare in Metropolis._

"Lady friend," Claire repeated with a little derision, clad in leggings and a loose tanktop, her hair tied back into a messy bun as she eyed the newspaper while simultaneously eating noodles out of a Chinese to-go container. Having left the office early on this particular Friday, Claire was seated on the couch, while Lex stood leaning against the back, glancing down over her shoulder. "Wow. _Wow_."

"Is there a term you would prefer that's more accurate?" Lex asked with a gentle irk of his eyebrow, which Claire noted when she turned to look back at him - he was clearly half-joking, but it was a half-joke she was less than receptive to.

"I don't know," she said, partially noncommittal, but also challenging. "But I have a name, and it isn't lady friend."

"And believe me - I did what I could to emphasize the fact to Miss Lane that you are the best person to lead this project," Lex said with a shrug, coming around the couch and sitting down casually next to Claire, propping his legs up on the coffee table. "But, alas. That's the quality of American journalism nowadays. You've got to cut them some slack. Print journalism's on its deathbed and they desperately need the sales." He reached over and gently flicked the headline that seemed to cause Claire so much displeasure. "The truth is far less sensational. _Perfectly qualified healthcare professional gets hired to position she's fully qualified for. Happens to look excellent in a skirt._ "

"Excellent in a skirt. Definitely a necessary detail to include," Claire deadpanned, not lifting her gaze from her food. "Very relevant."

"Yes, I think so."

"Mm."

Lex didn't often bother to give much thought to reading others unless there was the potential for gain on his part, but his recent closeness with Claire had given him enough exposure to her reactions and movements that he could read this one.

It genuinely bothered her that she was still publicized as his lady friend - and, he decided, perhaps rightfully so. She had worked tirelessly on the development of the project, and to be mentioned as a mere afterthought was indeed an affront. And it was an affront that he certainly did not want distracting her from her work or from him.

"How's the report coming along?" Lex asked casually. "It's due on my desk by nine o'clock sharp tomorrow."

"It's done."

Claire's expression was blank and clearly annoyed as she stared down into the small to-go Chinese box, now picking at the food instead of eating it. This was a side of Claire that Lex was only just growing accustomed to - occasionally moody and brooding and prone to the silent treatment. Lex, however, reached out for the laptop that Claire had powered off on the table and flipped it open. Claire's eyes darted over but she didn't turn her head to face him. Still brooding slightly, she reached over and typed in the login password to the computer which opened up directly to the final draft of the report.

Though Lex's posture was deceptively casual, he was indeed reading through the paper intently, surprised to find that not only had she met the decidedly short deadline he'd set as a challenge to her - she had also delivered more than he asked for. He was even more amused by the fact that from where she sat right next to him, Claire was trying to discreetly glance at him to measure his reactions to her work. Upon seeing this, Lex intentionally began reading slower to keep her in suspense as long as reasonably possible until finally, it became clear that he was milking the minutes of amusement he could get.

"Well, I'm impressed," Lex said, his eyes scanning over the report - he had admittedly already seen most of it, as he had several times taken the liberty of browsing through it when she fell asleep with her laptop still on. The finished product, however, was even better than he had expected from her. "Not a single detail left out. And with sixteen percent of your budget to spare."

"Theoretically," Claire said with a sheepish, bashful grin, her face reddening slightly - and Lex felt strangely powerful. There was power inherent in the moment because she felt _good_ , and she felt encouraged, and he was the cause of it. "So we're good to go, then?"

"All it needs is my signature and it's off the ground," Lex affirmed, gently shutting the laptop and putting it down on the table again. "It's excellent work - and I think excellent work should be rewarded."

He made a show of reaching into his pocket for his cellphone to check the time and grinning at Claire, in his mind realizing it was the perfect opportunity to take her away from Metropolis for a short while - to refresh after crossing paths with Lois Lane, who had a way of sending things awry by her mere acquaintance. Lex, in some ways, thought a lot about Lois as well in that she was yet another thing Lex envied of Superman's what felt like a lifetime ago for the mere fact that he had her. Superman - _Clark Kent_ \- had always had his Lois. Now, however, Lex had someone as well. He could think of Lois as no more than a passing nuisance because there was nothing left to envy.

"Idle hands are the devil's playground," Lex said, getting up, then reaching for Claire's hand to pull her up off the couch, barely giving her an opportunity to put down the food in her hands without spilling it. "Get dressed - you've more than earned some time away. Pack enough for the weekend and -"

"Lex?"

"Hurry while the night is young, mademoiselle," he said with a dramatic, sweeping gesture to which Claire complied. By now, it felt foreign and remote to think that at one time, this had not been her life - that this jet-setting, hearts-desire lifestyle that Lex had all but pulled her into was not te same reality she had always known. Lex, on his end, very much wanted it this way. He knew by now that while he was far from ready to end the intricate game of strategy taking place between himself and Bruce Wayne, he was not willing to place Claire in the game at the forefront. He preferred her to be the ace up his sleeve, not a pawn on the board. In order to restrain her from action, however, he needed to keep her slightly in the dark.

So, he did not explain to her where they were going until, when they had already made their way to the airstrip and were again seated on the private LexCorp jet, she finally inquired as to their destination, and Lex looked more than pleased with himself for the answer.

"The last time we went to Central City," Lex said with a matter-of-fact jolt of his eyebrows and a small, lopsided grin, "it was predominantly for business. Now, we're going strictly for pleasure."

Claire allowed a small smile to tug at her lips as well, and she realized that this was, for Lex, something very significant. Central City was not Paris or London or Vienna. Central City was by no means a _destination_ , but it was a place that held a place of significance and meaning for the two of them together. Now placated, Claire gently curled up in her seat and looked away, turning to look out the small airplane window. Seeing her go into this quiet, reflective place, Lex kicked his feet up and looked out the window as well.

Part of his fascination with this jetsetting lifestyle as a fascination with flying - with a fixation on the sky and heights and being above all. This was one of the things he had regarded with the most bitterness about the idea of a Superman - the ability to reach these heights without the aid of machines. But with Claire, for the first time, there was no sense of smallness or powerlessness. He had not yet deciphering precisely why.

Lex was unfamiliar with the feeling of simply being, but whatever this was with Claire Branigan, it was perhaps as close as he could come to it.

The three-hour flight from Metropolis to Central City went relatively quickly, even in silence, if only because the silence was a comfortable one. This time, however, when they disembarked from the jet, Lex had a car waiting for them and got into the driver's seat himself after helping Claire into the passenger's seat. This was not a business transaction or a public appearance, and made no pretenses of being one. Both of them were clad in jeans and sneakers, riding in an unseeming Volkswagen Golf down the streets of Central City at night.

They were two inconspicuous young adults walking into a cheesy downtown bar at ten in the evening on Eighties Night and ordering a drink, sitting at a hightop table across from one another, watching everyone bopping around to The Bangles and Depeche Mode - they were content as bystanders, because even if Claire was the more outgoing in the pair, it was still in neither of their character to participate. It was enough to sit at their table with their drinks and look on - if either had been alone, it would have alienating or lonely, but together, it was neither of those things.

A slower melody, however, started upon the ending of a Cyndi Lauper tune - and Claire's head immediately perked up slightly upon hearing it. _It's gonna take a little time, a little time to think things over..._

" _This_ song," she said with a gentle gesture of her index finger before taking a sip from her cocktail, and while she did not finish her statement, Lex could tell it was an implication that Claire liked this song in particular. She laughed slightly, and Lex strained slightly to listen, but found himself unable to remain in silence for too long.

"You know, this band, Foreigner," he began before he could help himself, pausing only briefly to take a gulp of his drink to wet his slightly dry throat. "They got their name because three of them were American, and three of them were British. So, wherever they went, at least half them were bound to be Foreigners -"

"Can we just... you know... listen?" Claire interrupted, squinting slightly and tilting her head to one side. "Listen to it and not analyze it?"

It was something that Lex wasn't quite entirely comfortable with - the analytical side of his brain was, without a doubt, the dominant side and this was something he struggled with. But when he did manage to do what Claire asked - to listen to the lyrics of the song - it seemed to almost startle him.

Maybe it was the especially strong cosmopolitan she was drinking, but Claire couldn't help but look at Lex while he listened to the song, looking confused - pensive. It wasn't necessarily a common reaction to an eighties song that in all honesty was not the deepest of them all. It was simple - and yet, quite appropriately, strangely foreign to Lex as he heard the crowd of people on the dancefloor somewhat drunkenly singing along with the chorus: _I wanna know what love is_.

There was a strange, child-like innocence to his furrowed-brow expression as he kept listening until finally, he was snapped out of his trance by Claire reaching out and giving his hand a small squeeze, laughing. It was difficult to believe that this Lex Luthor and the Lex Luthor that he was in Metropolis were the same person.

"It's catchy," he said, breaking the silence between them and garnering an amused smile from Claire.

"Told you."

And as soon as the moment had started, it was over too - the slow dancing stopped and made way for more jovial bopping and bouncing, and once they finished a drink apiece, Lex and Claire decided to leave.

Claire quickly found however that they were in fact driving away from downtown where the hotel from their previous trip to Central City was located - out of the city and out into the outlying hills. Claire felt slightly paranoid again - being flown out of Metropolis, out into the middle of nowhere, was not the most unsuspicious of acts.

"Lex?" she asked carefully after a good twenty minutes of driving into the sparser and sparser hills outside of the city, not sure if she wanted to ask where exactly they were going at the risk of learning the answer.

"Keep an eye out," he said with a brief glance in her direction. "You'll see it."

But soon, looking out the window would be harder than it sounded as they found themselves caught in a summer downpour, the car fighting back against the wind until it came to a stop. Finally, Claire managed to make out that they had stopped in front of a long, winding staircase leading up to a large cabin at the top of the hill. This one appeared kempt and well-maintained despite the surrounding untouched wood and wilderness.

"We can wait in here for it to stop coming down so hard," Claire said, still peering out the window. "The storm came on fast, this weather is -"

"We can leave the bags here until morning and come back for them," Lex interrupted, staring out of Claire's window at the cabin as well, and in the dim light cast only by the small inside light of the car, Claire noticed that he looked a little pale, perhaps even anxious to see this cabin in particular. Her better judgment said that waiting out the storm was most prudent, but when it came to Lex, when he was this anxious for something to happen, Claire knew she would struggle to say no. Because it mattered to him, and anything that mattered to him somehow came to matter to her by extension.

"Alright, but if I drown out there, I'm suing you," she said with a small laugh before sweeping her hair over one shoulder, casting open her door, and stepping out into the rain first. In the split second before exiting his own door, Lex mused that this was one of the things that in his mind set her apart - she did not balk or hesitate. She threw herself into the fray first, took on the vulnerability and the risk in any situation.

The staircase zig-zagged three times up the steep incline of the hill, and both Lex and Claire found themselves sputtering against the wind and rain as they ascended the staircase, growing progressively slower as their sopping wet clothes grew heavier. Finally, Lex reached the door first and unlocked it, holding open the door for Claire to get inside before following behind.

"You," Claire said with a winded laugh, first wringing out her hair and picking up a blanket off of a nearby armchair, "are going to catch pneumonia like that. Come here." Claire hooked her thumb under the hem of Lex's sopping wet shirt, pulling it off of him and wrapping the blanket around his shoulders instead. Lex realized when she touched him, however, that she too was shivering slightly.

"What about you?"

"Don't worry about me," she laughed in a quivering voice, now wringing the water out of her own shirt until Lex, still wrapped in the blanket, reached out and pulled her inside of the blanket with him, all but dragging her over to the sofa so that they sat wrapped in the blanket together. Claire ducked inside of the blanket and pulled off her wet shirt, casting it aside so that it landed by the door, and when she again rested against him again under the blanket, Lex felt his body relax at the feeling of her skin against his.

It was not a sensual act - it was warmth and comfort and safety.

Finally, Claire managed to look around in the dimly lit living room of the cabin and realized that it was in fact gorgeous - mostly furnished, thought slightly dusty. Tasteful. Simple. Claire had never been the type to enjoy the woods or cabins or anything of the like, but this was not the kind of place she envisioned - it was simply homey and comfortable. Warm.

"Do you like it?" Lex asked, and from the slightly choked tone in his voice, Claire could tell that the question, though asked with the intention of being casual and offhanded, was more than just small-talk to Lex; Claire felt his gaze on her as she looked around, and she gently turned to face him with a small smile.

"It's beautiful," she said calmly, resting her head tiredly against his chest, to which he responded by running a hand over her hair. Again, she felt his body relax underneath her and his breathing become slow and steady.

"I'd hoped you'd think so," he said honestly - and as the pair of them slowly drifted to sleep under the blanket, gathering warmth from one another, Claire realized that this place, for whatever reason meant a great deal to him. And he'd brought her here.

* * *

The unseasonable, unforgiving weather was not limited to the mainland, certainly not to Central City, and off on a boat in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean, Bruce Wayne and his cohort were gently turned and blown as well as they made their way past.

The decision had been made to make their way to search for Doctor Stone in the Netherlands by boat rather than by plane to remain as inconspicuous as possible, and though the weather was unforgiving, the presence of Arthur Curry onboard no doubt was a contributor to their so far safe passage.

"My first cruise ever - I'd expected the route to be a little more scenic!" Barry called out over the wind - it was difficult to see anything though the wind and rain. "Maybe with some cocktails and hors d'oeuvres or something -"

Barry stopped talking, however, after a sharp glare from Arthur, who stood at the bow of the boat, staring forward in deep, almost statue-like concentration.

"Sorry," Barry muttered under his breath. He'd been charged with a turn at watching the sails and minding their direction while Arthur focused on the seas around them. Meanwhile, Bruce and Diana stood inside of the cabin, staring out and going over the documents they had brought with them in hopes of following a trail of clues to Doctor Silas Stone.

"What are your plans, Bruce?" Diana asked, crossing her arms over herself and wrapping herself in her coat a little more tightly. "Even if we find this Doctor, what then? How do we convince him or his son to join us?"

"The same way I convinced all of you -"

"You convinced no one, Bruce," Diana said with an arch of her eyebrow, respectful but firm in her correction. Diana's dedication to the cause was admittedly due in large part to a sense of obligation she felt to correct some of the disillusionment Bruce harbored - he would need to clear these clouds from his mind in order to be the leader the team and the world required. "If we had relied on your powers of persuasion, then you would not have had my assistance, and without my assistance, Arthur would have never come. Don't harbor delusions that you could have done this alone. We've had this conversation before."

Bruce's jaw clenched shut - Diana Prince had a way of driving him to silence.

"Then what do you suggest we do?" he finally managed to ask, and upon being asked this, Diana allowed a small smile to cross her face as she cocked her head to one side.

"My guess is as good as yours, Mister Wayne," she replied with an impish grin. "But at least I have your respect."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter of some transition material! I want to give a brief mention to marriedtojbiebs for sending in the idea for the bar scene - it was initially a very different scene, but I realized I liked this one a lot more.


	25. Chapter 25

Claire woke up to the sun streaming through the blinds into her eyes, and she pulled her arm out of the blanket to shield her face gently so she could open them. Sitting next to the table were their two small bags they had taken, which Lex must have brought up into the cabin since the rain had stopped. She walked over and pulled on a shirt, glancing around the room and realizing that Lex was not inside.

It was in this brief moment of solitude that Claire had a real opportunity to think about where they were - what was happening.

If someone had told her a matter of months ago that she would be in newspapers, that she would be on weekend getaways with Lex Luthor, she would have found the idea laughable. But here she was, in a lakefront cabin with the person who had started as her patient, because she had been the only nurse willing to take him on in Metropolis State Penitentiary.

Claire walked first over to the kitchen area and began peering through the cabinets to find that there were things in the cupboards, including a kettle. She started heating up some water and hurried back to her bag, where she kept travel-sized packets of coffee and tea. Broke college kid habits, she always explained, died hard. It didn't matter much what position she held in LexCorp. At her core, she would always feel like a girl from the south side of Metropolis.

When she got back to the kitchen and made two mugs of tea, she managed a glance out the window and saw where Lex had gone - he was standing outside on the balcony, looking out over the water. These pensive moments were by no means unusual for him, but still Claire hesitated before heading out the porch door, walking up next to him and gently sliding the mug of warm tea over the railing.

"It's nice out here," she said in a calm voice, "but you never really struck me as the outdoorsy type."

" _Not till we are lost, in other words not till we have lost the world, do we begin to find ourselves, and realize where we are and the infinite extent of our relations_ ," he recited, and Claire again could not help but be impressed by his memory. It was a line she recognized from the work by Henry David Thoreau, which she'd read multiple times in school but never could have recited anything from, purely from memory.

Lex gave a choked laugh and looked back at Claire, unable to help a small sneer. "I'm not sure you understand how it feels to know that everyone you surround yourself with wants sooner or later to be rid of you."

The statement seemed to hit Claire hard, and while she played it off by taking a sip of her warm tea, the way her expression fell in response seemed to be a dead giveaway.

"I don't want to be rid of you," Claire replied before she could help herself, and Lex gave a disbelieving laugh, shaking his head slightly and not looking up from the mug of tea in his hands. The statement shook him. The idea of Claire not wanting to be rid of him, of actually being a willing recipient of his presence and his company, still had not become tangible to him because it was unthinkable.

"My father," he began carefully, and Claire felt herself tensing at the resurgence of the topic, which had last come up with his near-disclosure the night of the earthquake, "owned nine vacation homes, but this one - this one," he said with a dry chuckle and a gesture of his index finger as he eyed his surroundings, again with the same flustered expression as though he worried about being overheard. "This one was special. It was made especially for my mother. She never cared for the big city. It was boisterous and disorienting. It overwhelmed her. And my father _loved_ her," he said with another laugh. This laugh, however, was choked, almost as though the statement disgusted him. "Ardently. Obsessively. And he never loved a soul again after her. She as a whole was only person he ever in his life considered worth loving - and even the _piece_ of her that I was could never equal that worth."

Claire's knuckles grew pale where she gripped her mug, doing what she could not to react. Perhaps out of reflex it was too stiff, too routine, too clinical - but even if her insides writhed and bellowed with the need to somehow respond, she knew that it wasn't yet the time for her own shock.

"I hoped. When I was a boy, I hoped - _to God_ ," he added with a derisive snort of a laugh as though this were the punchline to a joke, "that somehow he'd recognize the little piece of my mother that survived in me."

He managed a brief glance into Claire's eyes, which were again filled that same warmth - that same concern that made Lex feel simultaneously safe and unsettled. It was an expression of softness that Lex simply struggled to understand because it was never his to receive. Again, Lex looked down at the warm drink in his hands, feeling his heart start to race, his hands start to shake. Why did she look at him like that? Why did the look in her eyes look so much like the secret memory he had created of how he thought his mother would have looked at him, with protection and compassion?

"Lex," Claire spoke up in a quiet voice, keeping a safe distance in anticipation for a poor response - and it became clear that now, the conversation that had nearly happened the night of the quake was finally heading towards fruition. Lex's grip tightened on the mug as he awaited the question that would change both of their worlds for good.

"What happened to you?"

Lex's eyes clenched shut briefly, and he hissed as he inhaled, bowing his head slightly. No one had ever in his entire life asked him what had happened to him - not with only his interests in mind. It was only recently in Claire's presence that he realized he even wanted to be asked. His disclosures about his past, few and far between, had always been something had imposed on others - all of whom were dead and took the secret with them.

He realized now that the burden of vulnerability lay on his shoulders, and that this moment would change forever what he had with Claire. He knew that keeping her at his side was of the utmost importance, but also that this was his most powerful secret. This secret was the source of his entire personhood. In the absence of real power, this secret fueled his anger - and his anger was the closest to power that he could ever dream of possessing. Now was the moment wherein he would decide if he did or did not trust the woman with whom he already shared a home, shared a bed, shared his plans and plots and schemes.

"My father," Lex began shakily, forcing his eyes open slowly, "taught me since I was a boy that love and fear were no different. Every day, I lived in fear. I fell asleep every night bruised and broken..."

Claire found her breath catching in her chest, and she had to dig the nail of her finger into her palm to keep from reacting, knowing that there was no use in her interjecting her own shock, her own sadness at his story into the situation.

"...and I waited. I waited every day when I was a boy for that fear to turn into the love that every other boy had from his mother and father. I waited. And when I realized I would never have it after years of the same beatings... the same torture," he said, his forehead wrinkling and his hands clenching tighter around the mug. "I ran. I put a few things in a bag and tried to run away from home for three days."

Lex paused and shook his head, laughing bitterly and glancing upward. "And my father didn't even look for me. I never wandered far," he added matter-of-factly. "And I realized quickly that I had nowhere to go. No one to trust. So even though I'd never be loved by my father, I knew, neither would I find that love from anyone else. So I went back home."

"Lex..."

"And I expected what came first. I expected the beatings and berating," Lex continued, finding now that he was unable to stop now that he had started. Claire found her throat choking tightly when she saw tears threatening to escape from Lex's eyes as well. Then, as though observing them made them more real, a few tears escaped his eyes, which he wiped away with a mix of anger and embarrassment. "I was a humiliation. I had caused him such inconvenience. Such an awful scandal. Such an awful waste of time. But this time, I has disappointed him and disgraced far worse than ever. Far, far worse," Lex said - Claire almost felt a chill at the forced, humorless laugh that escaped his lips, accompanied by a wagging gesture of his index finger.

Lex drew a shuddering breath and finally managed to look at Claire, who seemed shocked by this fact herself. "I expected being beaten to within an inch of my life, but what came next... he'd broken my body too many times for it to teach me a lesson. This time. This time," Lex said, his voice a near his, sweat gathering at his temples, his hands shaking. "This time he broked what little I had left. All I had left," he said, shaking his head slowly. "And that was when I knew, I could never hope for love. Not from him, and not from anyone else."

"Lex -"

"He wanted to ensure that I had nothing. That I was aware that I was nothing..."

And like she had many times before, Claire reached out to gently clasp her hand over his. He looked down at their joined hands and she gently coaxed loose his grip on the mug, placing it back down on the railing. She squeezed his hands until the stopped shaking. She looked into his eyes with her own blank like pools of still water.

"That isn't true," Claire finally said gently. "You're not nothing, Lex."

And Lex saw that her eyes had welled with tears. For him. even if he could not decide whether or not he believed what she was saying, he was perfectly cognizant of the fact that it had been said. His face contorted slightly into a frown. "You're crying for me," he said with confusion in his eyes. "Don't. Don't pity me, Claire. I don't need it - I don't need it with everything I've become," he said with a dry cough of a laugh. "Between my father and I, I came out the greater man in the end. I won."

Lex's eyes were trained carefully on Claire's face at this moment, waiting for some betrayal of a reaction - of some sort of recoil or terror at the clear implication. In his mind, he was all but waving the truth like a banner in Claire's face - she had witnessed him send Lubrano out to his death with a smile and a wave. She would know, Lex surmised, that he had killed for far less than his father's transgressions towards him. This was a final test to determine an imperative - either to possess her or to destroy her. She was so good, Lex reminded himself. He awaited her attempts to flee, to tell him he was a monster. The words he awaited from her, however, did not come.

The pieces seemed, in Lex's mind however, to be falling more and more cleanly into place now that the truth was laid bare at Claire's feet to do with as she pleased. His father had been, beneath all of the pomp and luxury and grandiosity, a deplorable and power-mongering human being, and yet he had still had a woman love him dearly and truly. Even if he had not been the same cruel, conniving slavedriver of a man before losing his wife, that darkness must have still been inside him. Everyone harbored a little darkness, Lex concluded, when they witnessed terrible horrors. For Lex Luthor the Elder, the horrors had been those of war - and he had in turn become those very same horrors to his son. Yet despite that darkness, someone had considered him worthy, in spite of all he had done to acquire worth. Lex had never possessed this. Having Claire was the last piece of the puzzle, the final way in which he could finally meet the mark set by Lex Luthor Senior.

"I don't pity you, Lex."

"Then what?" Lex asked, leaning forward with his face just a hair's breadth from hers. "If it isn't pity, then what is it?"

The silence again settled between the pair of them. Claire inhaled deeply once, twice, three times. There were true answers, there were false answers, and there were many in between that swam around in Claire's mind as she attempted to formulate her response. She knew the true answer, but she did not know her own willingness to give it.

And moreover, if she told the whole truth now, it put the burden upon him to accept it - and placing that burden on him to feel so intensely, to reciprocate, to receive, was the last thing Claire thought wise. Now that he had rid himself of one burden, she had no desire to give him another, and that was all her real feelings would be. So, she gave the only answer she considered right.

"It's whatever you need it to be."

Claire answered simply. Succinctly. Vaguely. In a manner that was only befitting her character - and yet, despite its lack of clarity, it seemed more than enough for Lex. He would have perhaps felt a greater sense of control over the situation with a more definite answer, but the thought of someone truly in tune with his needs was consolation enough. She believed him - without disgust or abject horror.

His pause in thought, however, left Claire hanging perhaps a millisecond too long. She let out a heaving sigh and started to walk away back towards the house, only to have Lex catch her by the crook of the arm and pull her back towards him. He held still, holding her there, close enough to him that he could feel her breaths, her movements when she tilted her head in confusion at his actions.

"I don't wanna get rid of you," Claire repeated, shaking her head slowly. "I'll never want to get rid of you."

Lex couldn't not help the confused expression on his face, the apprehensive gulp that made him feel as though he were choking on his own Adam's apple.

His father had his mother. Clark Kent had Lois Lane. Men who were strong and powerful always had someone - a woman whose mere existence was both their greatest weakness and strength. And now, Lex practically felt him swell with realization that he too was one of those men. Whether or not he was substantively any different than he had ever been was a point that stood to question, but the fact remained that he felt he had now been changed, and would not stand to go back to what he had been.

So again, he leaned in and pressed his lips to hers, but not out of fulfillment of an urge or need - there was a strange chasteness and innocence to it, like the sealing of a covenant. They had chased this conclusion in circles for months now without actually reaching it, always allowing it to remain out of reach until now. It was caught. It was true.

But when he pulled away, he felt a sense of apprehension immediately seize control of him as he stared at Claire's face and straightened his posture. He exhaled deeply, then quickly shook his head and strode past Claire, walking back inside the back door of the cabin with a fierce expression.

There was an immediate sense of regret in having divulged these truths, not because of anything Claire had said or done, but because no one before had ever given him reason to believe in anything. His hands were again clenched into fists at his sides, shaking with fury and perhaps more than a small amount of fear. Lex clenched his eyes shut when he heard the hinges of the door squeal gently, the sound of footsteps coming inside, and the door closing once again. Then, everything was still. Without looking, he realized Claire was standing there, waiting for him.

He realized that Claire was giving him control, that he had only ever had control over her because she had willingly given it. Without turning around, he drew himself to the fullest height he could manage.

"The clock is ticking now," he said in a strangely gentle tone, slightly higher pitched as if in threat to become a whimper. "Inevitably, now, your opinion of me is going to change. To borrow your own words... the jig is up."

"This isn't going to change anything. Not unless you want it to," Claire said, her voice growing only slightly closer. "All of the things that happened to you, happened to you before I met you. It was there whether I knew it or not."

"I know it's in your nature, Claire, but you don't need to patronize me," Lex said with his jaw clenching tightly, and Claire recoiled at the remark, which Lex figured from the sound of her drawing in a sharp breath. Some small part of him was angry with himself. He had already given her his trust, irrevocably shared the truth with her, and yet this beast in his mind was trying now to recant. "You think I'm weak."

"Why would I think that?" Claire asked, and the sincere, sharp lilt of surprise in her voice was enough to make Lex turn around to level a scrutinizing glance in her direction. "I don't know everything you went through, but I know you got through it. I know you're not weak, Lex." It was, Lex realized, the kindest thing anyone had ever said to him with any level of sincerity. It was so beautiful that it made him nearly feel sick. One more time, Claire walked over and gently loosened his fists, and he found his breathing slowing to keep pace with her own even breaths. Even perhaps against his will, she brought him a strange sort of peace. He didn't think he wanted peace, because he didn't know what to do with it - yet when it was here, the reprieve was strange and welcome.

"You don't get it, do you?" Claire asked, squeezing his hands and bearing a look of genuine disbelief. "I could never think of you as weak. You gave me a chance to live my life again. You gave me a choice again," Claire said. " And I chose you. Lex, I'm not sure how much the opinion of a girl from the south side of Metropolis is worth, but to me, you're as close to a hero as I've ever met."

Again, confusion crossed Lex's face. No one had ever without being facetious called or considered him a hero. Now, he understood what it was like to be a man like his father, like Superman. The image of a hero and a savior was something he had long tried to project was what she saw in him - inexplicably, perhaps unreasonably. He'd once accused her of being the Wendy to his Peter Pan, but in all truth, the roles were possibly reversed. It was Claire who took him away from the world he knew. But now for the first time, he saw fear in her face - she feared being rejected by him. It was something Lex could not admit to understanding. It was as though Claire did not value power or control - because if she did, she easily could have exerted them over him in this moment.

"The opinion of a certain girl from the south side of Metropolis," Lex repeated, his brow furrowing as he hesitantly crossed the few steps between himself and Claire, "matters more to me than any other opinion does."

It was a little bit poetic the way Claire's face, beyond her control, lit up upon hearing the profession, and how Lex, who like Pandora had brought chaos into the world and like Icarus was brought back to Earth to face his own weakness and humanity, had managed this single act of good without pretense. Claire valued very much the idea that her opinion was valued.

She reached out and as she always did, gripped his hands, but this time, he squeezed back equally and looked back at her. This place, this haven far out in the hills outside of Central City, was a place he associated with the mother Lex never knew but always longed for because she was comfort and protection. But she had always been distant and theoretical until, strangely enough, this moment. For the first time, it felt like his mother was somehow tangible and real. Every place in his life he had ever dwelled in felt as though it belonged to his father - as though it was _tainted_ by his father. This cabin was his mother's place, and it felt as though she had given it to him.


	26. Chapter 26

"You alright there, your highness?" Barry asked energetically, quickly catching up to Diana at the front of their small pack, walking up a country road. Since their arrival in the Netherlands, they had made sure to look as inconspicuous as possible, which was easier said than done in any group of foreigners traveling through an area that rarely saw outsiders. "We've been walking for awhile, we don't want you -"

"Your chivalry is sweet, Mister Allen," Diana interrupted with a smirk, tilting her head gracefully to one side, "but I have traveled much longer distances before, much more quickly. I think I'm doing fine."

"If you wanted to be helpful, you could run ahead," Bruce said with a sardonic edge to his voice, moving his coat and patting a hand on his waist where he had a concealed version of the utility belt he normally wore. "I'm sure we have something in here I could use as a kiddie leash - follow you like a trail of bread crumbs."

"A-ha," Barry said, grinning and raising his index finger matter-of-factly. "That's where I absolutely would if I could, but I make up in super speed what I lack in a sense of direction - and I have a lot of super speed. So, I'll leave you all to do the math."

Arthur Curry and Bruce Wayne both rolled their eyes at the statement - they still felt that Barry Allen was perhaps not ready to be a hero of any sort. It was not so much that tragedy and brooding were a prerequisite for qualifying as a defender of Earth, but they most definitely made it easier to concentrate. Diana, however, seemed to be amused by the boy. She had once said that Barry was refreshing because in her mind, the difference in age between Bruce and Barry was only miniscule compared to her own years - yet they were extremely different. Despite the fact that she agreed with a great deal of supporting evidence that the world was indeed a dark place, Barry was one of the few people who had not allowed himself to become dark by some sort of osmosis.

In passing, Diana Prince mentally noted that Claire Branigan was another one of these individuals. They were rare, and they were valuable.

"We shouldn't be far," Diana interrupted. "They said in town that the doctor lived less than a two hours' walk away, out into the hills."

"How are we sure," Arthur began, "that they are talking about the same doctor. They had no name to provide us in town when we asked."

"I know towns like these," Diana said matter-of-factly. "The townspeople are lucky to have learned how to read and write - there's likely no more than four people in town who are even qualified to teach it. I don't suspect they'll have had many doctors passing through."

Diana had no problem pushing the team forward towards their destination, even if the walk was taking at least an hour more than promised. It surprised her how quickly hope returned to her when she became a part of this team - she had walked away from mankind a long time ago after having convinced herself that hope for mankind was gone, yet here she was again. Strangely enough, it felt good. Perhaps a small part of her reclaiming the burden of heroism was a little bit of selfishness - because it was gratifying, because it was purpose that she had not felt for a long time. These musings lingered with her until finally, the hilly road opened up to reveal a home at the end of the way. This was the only home that could be found in the area. This had to be where they would find Doctor Stone.

The Manor was an almost ominous building made of stone - it looked almost as though it were an oversized mausoleum that had no place for housing living people. The lack of dust or wear on he outside and the overall kempt appearance of the property, however, indicated that there must have been someone living there. Arthur appeared the most discomforted by their surroundings - a man from the open sea had no place inside stone walls.

It was now Bruce at the head of the team, raising his hand to knock on the door - Diana insisted that Bruce be their leader, the face of their league, and had stepped aside to allow him forward. The first knock yielded no response, so Bruce knocked again more forcefully. Now, through the slightly worn wooden doors, there was the slight sound of footsteps inside, which might have been missed if not for Arthur's sharp ear. He gestured with a hand that he heard something and nodded for Bruce to continue.

"Doctor Stone," Bruce called out. "Doctor Stone are you -"

Before the question was finished, the doors opened with a slight groan of their hinges and the unseeming dark-skinned, bespectacled man stood in front of them, looking apprehensive at their arrival. He took a step back into what seemed like a reflexively defensive position, and now, Diana stepped forward. Ever the more calming presence, she raised her hands and steadily took a step to stand next to Bruce.

"Doctor Stone, please, don't be afraid of us," she said with a note of genuine pleading. "We've been looking for you -"

"Yeah - remember me?" Barry said enthusiastically, now charging up from the back of the group and jutting his hand out eagerly to shake the older man's hand. Bruce visibly grimaced but was unable to serve as a barrier to the younger man's vigor as he, as he often did, took over the conversation. "Barry Allen? Central City? I attended your speech on -"

"Neuroelectricity, Algorithm, and Free Will in the Human Brain," Dr. Stone nodded, reaching out and hesitantly shaking Barry's hand, but to Bruce's surprise appearing much more at ease than he had moments before. "Surprisingly not one of my more popular lectures in the series. I remember you."

"Yeah. You know STAR Labs. If it's not nuclear or going into space, they'd rather take a lunch break," Barry chuckled, scratching the back of his neck. "But - I'm with these guys. They're cool, Doc."

Silas Stone regarded the visitors at his front door with apprehension. While it was small comfort to see a familiar face, whether or not this was enough to trust them remained in question.

"Listen, Doc," Barry continued plainly, making a gesture with his hands almost as though he were pleading. "I haven't known these guys that long, but I know that they're doing something really important that could help a lot of people... and I don't know you that well, but... I know that matters to you too."

This was the first time that Bruce Wayne genuinely saw the value in Barry's inclusion in their team - the first time that he found perhaps what he saw as naivete was something that would be an asset to them. Seemingly moved by Barry's honesty, Dr. Stone slowly gestured for them to follow him into his large, manor-like home, waving them into the somewhat dusty receiving room where they filed in to each take a seat.

"Thank you," Diana spoke up after assuming the seat closest to where Dr. Stone had tiredly leaned against a desk, crossing his arms as he surveyed the guests he had just admitted into the safety of his home. "We would not be bothering you if it were not of the utmost importance, doctor. It has to do with... a threat. From another world," Diana explained carefully, and Dr. Stone's expression quickly hardened - it was evident that now, he knew where this conversation was going. There was a moment of tension, and it was clear that he was tempted to simply turn everyone back out the way they came, but when he did not, Diana took a breath. It was Bruce, however, that spoke up first.

"There is a threat approaching our world - and I have reason to believe it's coming fast," Bruce said, looking out the window and noting that it was in fact darker than usual. "The earthquakes. The changes in the sun - I don't know if we have much time."

"And why would it be coming?"

"Lex Luthor," Bruce began with his lip curling into a sneer, "created a monster. Killed Superman. And whatever is out there knows what's happened. I don't know how it's going to find us but -"

"The Mother Box."

The sound of another voice in the doorway turned every head to the entrance to the room, where they were met by a hooded figure of large - unusually large build. He lowered his hood to reveal a strange metal device that seemed to be implanted into the side of his face, down into the neckline of his clothes. He was a younger man than Dr. Stone, with similar features underneath the metal contraption, and they could only surmise that this was his son - the son that everyone had assumed was dead.

"It's a Mother Box," he said brusquely, crossing his thick arms across his broad chest. "And it's going to be the way whatever is out there gets here. It's the reason I'm like this."

"Can you lead us to it?" Diana asked, standing in respect. The man, however, gave a derisive laugh, looking downward and shaking his head.

"Afraid I can't, ma'am," he said with a shrug after the humorless laughter had subsided. "I tried destroying it - probably did a damn good job. But it's gone now - at least what's left of it. You wouldn't stick around if someone was tearing the crap out of you, would you?"

"You speak of this Mother Box as though it were some kind of... sentient being," Diana remarked, her face twisting into a slight frown. "It's just a machine isn't it? A device?"

The younger man's response was simply a smirk and an irk of his eyebrow as he uncrossed his arms. There were a few shared glances around the room at the revelation that this Mother Box - the device that Diana remembered from the video footage in Lex Luthor's files - was going to be the lighthouse which led destruction to Earth, and it was now unaccounted for.

"You're Vic. You're Vic Stone, aren't you?" Barry asked, cocking his head to one side. "Everyone back home thought you'd died -"

"I might as well have," Vic replied, his forehead wrinkling. "Between dying and living like this, there ain't a huge difference," he said, reaching and lifting his shirt to reveal the metal, armor-like surface that consumed most of his torso area. "I'm alive, but I'll never have a life. Not like this."

"We need your help," Diana said plainly. "Whatever is coming, we're going to have to face it -"

"You're going to have to face it," Vic interrupted, his expression going hard and harsh as it met Diana's gaze. "I'm not fighting anything. I'm done fightin'."

"So this is the world's debt to you? The luxury of excluding yourself from a fight?" Arthur finally spoke up, his gaze fierce. The seas knew better than anywhere else the consequences of people thinking that duties did not fall upon them, of thinking only of themselves, and while Arthur had meant only to be a silent partner, to serve as support to the team he had already committed himself to, but this kind of sentiment - the sentiment he equated to the majority of mankind on land, was one he struggled to ignore. "This world owes you nothing -"

"And I owe _it_ nothing," Vic said, his hand clenching into a fist. "I don't owe this world anything."

"Vic," Bruce said, standing up slowly and taking a few stalking steps forward. He needed Vic Stone to be the one who understood - the one other person who started as a regular human who had this sense of power and duty thrust upon him. Another man among metahumans. "They need us. People need us -"

"People need us? Like they needed Superman? I'm not living in a cave, Mister Wayne, I saw on the news how they treated Superman right before he died," Vic roared, slamming his hand down on a nearby side table - his strength, however, caused a small crack to appear in the wood and he forced himself to take a deep breath, to seek some level of calm. "They hated him and thought he was a monster up until he died. Treated him like a freak until he died for them. You think I wanna put myself through that, you're in for a surprise. Because I ain't puttin' myself through anything else. I've been through enough."

And before any other protests could be leveled, Vic turned and left. Dr. Stone let out a heaving breath and hung his head while the others in the room turned to look at him.

"We'll go - I realize that we're asking a great deal from you and your son," Diana said softly, walking over and standing directly in front of Dr. Stone, who was clearly overwhelmed - the fatigue in his expression was evident, and it became obvious that he bore heavily the burden of what had become of his son. "We'll be in town for three more days before our boat for home is cleared to leave. If you or your son have any need for us - if you wish to speak with us..."

Diana left the statement hanging, knowing that it was their only hope to give them the freedom to choose. She glanced back at the others and nodded for them to move out - they showed themselves out of the manor without assistance and were soon back on foot along the road back to town.

"Well, that was productive," Barry said with a harrumph, lacing his fingers behind his neck and stretching slightly as he walked. "Not gonna lie, that stung a little bit. And after we came all this way."

"I know it's difficult for you, but now is the time for patience, Speed Demon," Diana interrupted, looking back at Barry with a gently raised eyebrow. "If we are fighting for mankind, then we must believe in their goodness. We need to give him a chance."

* * *

Lois mulled over the story printed the previous Friday for perhaps the millionth time. _Luthor Jr. and Lady Friend: the New Face of Healthcare in Metropolis._ Lois felt her face redden in a mixture of anger and shame that this story was under her name, for one very important reason.

It wasn't hers. Lois Lane had rarely ever taken issue with the editorial changes Perry allowed when the story passed from hand to hand, but this time, it had become practically unrecognizable. Perry had apologized - or at least, given as close to an apology as was possible for Perry White - but explained that unfortunately, a piece solely on the merits of a pharmaceutical program run by a woman was simply not what was going to sell.

Lois Lane would have never dreamed of speaking this way about another woman, especially not one who was doing such excellent work, and who appeared to have only the purest of intentions even though she worked for the impurest of people. Claire Branigan was, in Lois's mind, making a very big mistake - but she didn't deserve this.

Surprisingly, Lois found tears creeping into her eyes. It was in times like these that Clark would have been the one to give her strength, to remind her to stay the course, that her career was about more than this even when at times it felt like it wasn't. But now, Lois was left alone in her apartment to mull over the fact that she had inadvertently betrayed a girl who far from deserved it. Lois Lane genuinely liked the younger woman and was smart enough to know when it was time to make amends.

She had come from trying to apologize - she had gone by LexCorp despite the rising sense of nausea the place elicited in her, only to be told that both Mister Luthor and Miss Branigan were out of town and would not be returning until Tuesday. By now, Lois had no doubt Lex had already convinced Claire that the story was an intentional shot against her character, that Lois had meant it all along. These were the instances that Lois began to wonder if perhaps the differences between her career choice and her own internal moral compass were irreconcilable.

It was about an hour sitting and allowing her coffee get cold before she was finally brought back to the real world by the ringing of her phone. The caller ID showed Martha Kent's number, and Lois couldn't help but give a small smile. Martha's maternal instincts seemed to have expanded to include her, because Lois found her would-be mother-in-law seemed to know precisely the right times when Lois needed a grounding presence to help sort through things.

"Martha," Lois said warmly as she picked up the call. "I'm so glad you called!"

But there was simply quiet on the other line - not silence, but quiet. There was slight rustling, and what sounded like breaths so Lois knew the call was still connected. Martha simply wasn't responding. "Martha?" Lois asked. "Are you there?"

"Lo," came a response finally - but it wasn't Martha's. It was a male voice that Lois had up to this point forced herself to accept she would never hear again. She was torn between feeling overwhelmed with joy at the possibility of hope, and nauseated at the possibility of being wrong. "Lois... it's me."


	27. Chapter 27

Lex Luthor's tenuous relationship with sleep was reason enough for sharing a bed to be of the utmost significance. If vulnerability was what he hated more than anything, then sleep was to him the greatest of threats. It was only very recently that he again began seeing sleep as something valuable, and only in the presence of Claire Branigan.

However, this did not mean that sleep was always peaceful.

Lex had fallen asleep relatively early in the evening next to Claire in the master bedroom of the Lake House - following the revelations of the previous day, he was surprisingly exhausted by the sheer emotion of it. Now, well into the night, Claire was awoken by his fitful tossing and turning next to her, accompanied by incoherent mumbling. Still drowsy, Claire sat up in bed and rubbed her own eyes gently, processing in her mind what she was seeing before realizing it. Lex was having a nightmare.

She realized long ago that nightmares were the reason that Lex struggled to sleep - she imagined it had been this way for a long time, and that it had played a large role in his spiral into instability, but that his time in prison and in Arkham had only made it exponentially worse. The feeling of being constantly terrified and exhausted made that fall from the edge all but inevitable, Claire reasoned. Maybe, she thought to herself, she was trying too hard to be reasonable - to insert some sort of logic into _whatever_ this was - but it was the best she could manage.

Knowing that it would likely make things worse if she did anything to startle him awake, she slowly leaned over and brushed his hair out of his face - the hair was clinging slightly to his forehead from perspiration, and Claire felt her throat tighten as she realized how sorely she hated seeing him this way. At the same time, however, she also realized that this was him. This was a part of him that existed before she had come. It wasn't for her to fix, but to weather alongside him now that she too was privy to the reasons why.

"Lex," she said gently, but with enough loudness to her voice to ensure that he heard her. "Lex, you're okay. _Lex_."

The repetition of his name, almost like a chant or like a beacon calling him home, seemed to register in his mind even as he slept - the writhing and the mumbling stopped, and his breathing steadied so that he was now simply laying on his side, sleeping restfully. Claire let out a sigh of her own relief.

Once she was assured that Lex was sleeping soundly, she slowly swung her legs over her side of the bed and got up, walking to the kitchen to pour herself a glass of water, careful to make as little noise as possible.

It was a change, to say the least, to go from orbiting to being fully immersed in the inner sactum of Lex Luthor's secrets. She knew a great deal - too much, even - to be able to go back, and even more strange was the fact that Claire wasn't sure this bothered her at all. It should have. A small part of Claire felt she should have pushed back against the way her ties to Lex Luthor seemed to engulf her entire life, and yet she felt no inclination to. She took a long gulp from the glass of cool water and breathed deeply.

This meant something, she realized. It meant something significant and life-changing that she wasn't yet prepared to say in frank terms.

"Claire!"

The sound of her name being called from the bedroom made her jump slightly, nearly dropping the water in her hand. Alarmed, she hurried back down the hallway, her feet plodding gently against the Turkish rug that ran over the wooden floors until she turned the corner back into the bedroom where Lex now sat upright in bed, his face pale, his hands gripping at the sheets.

"What's going on?" Claire asked, clambering back into bed after placing the glass of water down on the bedside table. Lex's eyes, however, darted around fearfully and Claire could tell that he was still detached, perhaps not completely back into the waking world. "Lex?"

"You were gone," he mumbled, shaking his head with an expression that flickered with fear, with anger, with unease - almost as though he were going to be sick and was fighting it back mightily. "You were gone."

"No - Lex, no," Claire said, reaching out and grasping his hands. After giving them a brief squeeze, she laid his hands on the bed between them with his palms facing upward, then gently raking the tips of her nails over his hands. It was a motion that Lex usually found strange, but the small, almost tickling sensation was something that immediately seemed to ground him back into reality because it was so subtle, so gentle, yet at the same time so unusual. His face twisted into a slight frown and his gaze focused again on Claire, realizing that she was there, sitting in front of him. "I just went to get a drink of water," Claire explained, her voice even and void of both accusation and defense. She reached for the glass and held it in Lex's direction - he willingly took a drink.

"You understand that you're too valuable now to just disappear," Lex said, his voice low in what Claire knew was an attempt to sound ominous, to save face. "It's part of the deal now, Claire -"

"I'm not going anywhere," Claire interrupted, shifting so she was sitting cross-legged in front of Lex and able to lean towards him, again grasping his hands. "I'm not going to leave you. I just need you to trust me."

_I need you to trust me._

It was easier said than done, but just the way it was said - not a command of trust me, but rather a plea for his trust - seemed to tumble and twist in Lex's mind as he strove to grasp it. Seeing his inner struggle, Claire shifted so her legs were bent at the knees and tucked under her.

Lex could tell she was tired too. Her eyelids were already drooping and she just as easily could have told him he was being ridiculous, that he should go back to sleep. He'd never been protected from his nightmares as a boy, so the idea of having a protector from them now when he was convinced he was no longer weak enough or vulnerable enough to need one left him feeling oddly shattered. Lex could see Claire fighting back sleep for him, and while it was a small gesture, it was one that he had never been on the receiving end of.

"Why are you doing this?" he asked finally, his face twisted into a slight frown. "What are you getting out of this?"

"I get to know that one of the most important people in my life is okay," Claire said simply.

Lex Luthor did not believe in selflessness. He did not believe that it was a trait that was inherent in people. It meant that the only possible conclusion was that Claire Branigan in his mind could be no ordinary person, which was well enough because he could accept an ordinary person as an equal. As a partner. But at the same time, a part of him held fast to the knowledge he had gained a long time ago, months ago onboard the Kryptonian vessel - the idea that something great and dark and destructive was coming that would render all things futile.

"There is no point to any of this. There's no purpose," Lex said, shaking his head and beginning to grow visibly agitated. "There's no sense in anyone trying to save anyone -"

"And I'm not in the business of saving people. Nobody is here forever," Claire said, her face calm. "But I figure if I make my not-forever and every not-forever my life touches a little less of a mess while I can, I don't know," she shrugged. "Maybe it'll leave a little bright spot in the fabric of time."

Lex's brow furrowed. Surely, his mind practically shouted, she couldn't be a real person. And like his mind did so many times when his own words and thoughts fell short of capability to describe the maelstrom of ideas swirling around his mind, he instead reverted to words already written:

" _Do you know, I always thought Unicorns were fabulous monsters_ ," he recited again from memory, knowing that this piece at the very least - Alice's Adventures in Wonderland - was one that Claire knew as well as he did. " _I never saw one alive before._ "

" _Well, now that we've seen each other_ ," Claire said with a small laugh, tilting her head to one side and smiling as it dawned on her that Lex had chosen this particular passage for a reason, " _if you'll believe in me, I'll believe in you._ "

There was a pause, and Lex's brow furrowed again - he gave an anticipatory look and gestured outward with his hands. "You're forgetting the best part," he said, waving his index finger once in front of Claire, whose forehead wrinkled in slight confusion. Lex gave a small snort and shook his head.

" _Is that a bargain?_ " he finished reciting, raising his eyebrows as though surprised that she would forget what he, the shrewd businessman he was, considered the most important part of the passage. She laughed again, but Lex gave her hands another urgent squeeze. "Is it?" he asked, straying now from the written word of Lewis Carroll and venturing into his own thoughts, speaking his own mind, asking his own questions. And Claire recognized the significant of this divergence from the canon, of this willingness to stand on his own thought.

"You've got yourself a deal," she said, now moving her legs out from underneath her and laying down comfortably on her side in bed, giving a small yawn and making a gesture beckoning for Lex to follow suit. He smirked slightly and laid down facing her, draping an arm lazily over her waist and resting his forehead against hers.

"Excellent," he said with a sleepy smirk - and within minutes, the pair had again succumbed to sleep, though now, restful and at peace.

* * *

Diana Prince was unsure of the value she ascribed to the chivalry inherent in the fact that her traveling companions insisted on her having her own room at the inn. Their boat was set to depart the next day for home, and she now sat alone in the room, contemplating what she very much regarded as a failure, even if she did not outwardly acknowledge it as such.

In all honesty, it was perhaps not so much that Diana strongly believed in people, but that she believed in duty, and the thought of having failed at a duty was not a failure she took lightly. Was fate so cruel, she wondered, as to have her survive among men for so many years and fail now?

It was a knock on her door that admittedly startled her slightly, and the lack of a voice identifying themselves left her feeling unsettled - at such a late hour, in such an isolated place, there were very few possibilities of who would be at her door. Her stance was defensive and prepared as she made her way towards the door, resting her hand gently on the handle and pulling it open in one swift movement.

"Mister Stone?"

"Victor. It's Victor," the large hooded figure in the doorway replied gruffly, walking through the door as Diana stepped aside to let him in, shutting the door behind him. "I'm here to hear you out, but I don't want your friends knowin' I'm here," he said, crossing him arms and facing Diana. "I hear one thing I don't like, and I walk."

"That is your right," Diana nodded graciously, taking a few steps closer to him. "Thank you for seeking me out, Victor."

"How did you know about me?" he asked, narrowing his eyes slightly. "The point of leaving was to disappear. Completely -"

"And for the most part, you did. But someone has been playing their cards well for a long time," Diana explained, striding across the room to where she kept the meager travel bag she carried on the journey that seemed an unseemly casing for any type of modern technology, but housed her laptop computer nonetheless. She booted up the computer and navigated to the now well-perused files from LexCorp, showing Victor the video footage of his father's documented attempts at saving him. Still wearing the hood over his head, Diana could still see his eyes clench shut at the sight of the machine - the Mother Box - taking over his body, and she realized it was perhaps the first time he had actually seen it. "Lex Luthor has been looking for us. For all of us," Diana explained. "But he came across something far more dangerous in his explorations. And it's coming -"

"From the same place that the Mother Box came from. I can feel it," Victor said, his lip curling into a slight sneer. While from what was visible of his real skin it was evident that he was still in fact a young man, there was a sense of weariness and weathered sadness to him that gave the semblance of age, very much the opposite of Diana's appearance of youth. She realized too that the merger between his own body and the Mother Box was not simply the attachment of missing parts like a bionic arm. It was a symbiosis. The Mother Box as itself another being that now shared a body with Victor Stone.

"You don't know where the Mother Box is?" Diana asked gently, her eyes squinting slightly as she asked. "You don't know where it might have gone?"

"If I did, I'd have finished the job of rippin' it to pieces," Victor retorted, the bitterness evident in his voice. "I don't know anythin' about where you'll find that thing, miss. I'm sorry."

"But you can help us," Diana insisted, reaching out and placing a hand on Victor's forearm - and though it was made of the same metal that seemed to have taken over much of his body, his reaction made it evident that he could still feel it. He stared at Diana questioningly, seemingly entertaining the thought for a moment before shaking his head and pulling his arm away from her.

"What for?" he asked. "Listen. If little piece of shit box from outer space can do this to me, we don't stand a chance against something much bigger," Victor insisted, his forehead contorting into a frown. "What do you think you're gonna achieve?"

"Mankind is a flawed race, but it has never been in their nature to lay down and die," Diana said fiercely, her eyes narrowing in response. "Your pain is your pain and I would never belittle it - you have suffered a great loss that no one so young should face," she said, drawing herself up to full height in front of Victor and squaring with him though statuesque as she was, she was still of smaller stature. "But if you feel that because you have suffered, the world owes you the freedom to forget your fellow man, then you were not a man yourself. And if that truth is more painful to you than what you have already endured, then you're free to go home. You're free to wallow in your pain until the time comes to lay down and die."

Enraged by her gall, Victor's fists clenched at his sides and briefly flinched as though he were tempted to strike, but Diana did not move. She did not so much as flinch in the face of being pummeled to death by a half-man half-machine, and out of sheer disbelief, Victor's fists again dropped to his sides.

"Who do you all think you are?" he asked, shaking his head and gesturing his arms out widely to the sides. "Some kind of... league of justice or something? Running around in disguise trying to right all wrongs and save the world?"

"I can think of worse ways to spend my days," Diana said simply, gracefully arching an eyebrow. "We may not win, but we will try. And we will be right."

"Right don't mean much when you're dead," Victor said flatly. "I saw what happened to your Superman. I don't give a shit if people build monuments to me when I'm not even around to see them."

"Neither did he," Diana said sternly. "He didn't care about the monuments. He cared about the people left to build them. He didn't care about being remembered, only about those who would be left to do the remembering. There was a woman he loved. Dearly," Diana said, pointing and jabbing a finger into Victor Stone's solid chest, realizing that her own eyes began to feel the pressure of tears. "But he died because he chose that over a world without her in it."

Since what had happened to him, no one had ever been angry with Victor Stone over his cynicism - his father allowed it, gave him the freedom to wallow in it. To now have this strange woman so frankly call him out on these things was foreign, yet somehow strangely freeing.

Diana Prince was the first person since all of this happened to treat him like a human again. Just this realization seemed to drain something from Victor. His shoulders slumped, and he dropped into a chair, shifting his weight so not to place all of his weight on the meager piece of furniture. There was truth in Diana Prince's tirade, and that was perhaps what was so draining. He had thought so little about what was true since they had come to this place. He had all but lost sight of what truth was.

"You have some kind of connection to this Mother Box," Diana said carefully, now kneeling in front of the younger man so not to lose eye contact with him as she spoke. "You carry it and its consciousness with you wherever you go."

"Anything it knows, I know," Victor confirmed with a slow nod.

"You may be the only one who can help us before it's too late," Diana said, her forceful tone now shifting to one of gentle, pleading negotiation. "And it may be futile. Many things leave very little mark on the fabric of the universe. But we can try. I am asking you to be a part of this," Diana said, again placing a hand on Victor's forearm. "So I will ask you again. Will you join us?"

For a short while, Victor was silent. He looked away for a moment, then back at Diana. His mind reeled. His free hand ran over the now-warm surface of metal that covered his face, lowering his hood and showing himself to Diana now before slowly nodding.

When he followed Diana out to the docks the next morning and boarded the strong-built boat alongside the team with hardly a word to anyone, Bruce Wayne mentally noted that if the team continued to grow at this rate, they were going to need a larger method of transportation.


	28. Chapter 28

Coming back to Metropolis was something which Lex Luthor approached with mixed emotions - on one hand, of course he would always relish his return to this place, whether it was from a weekend getaway or from a stint in prison, because it was the world he had rebuilt when it sorely needed rebuilding. It was the place that gave him power - the place that, in some rare, fleeting moments, made him forget that he was not again because he was so close to one here.

Returning to Metropolis also meant, however, returning to all of the things he considered threats. Now, when the cabin outside of Central City that had once been his mother's safe space was now very much the place that belonged to him and to Claire, the single entity he saw as a protector, it grew more difficult to leave it. Duty, however, had to take precedent eventually.

The first order of business on the evening of their return was moving all of Claire's things from the guest suite to the master suite. With him. She belonged there now, after all, now that she was meant to be his equal and his partner - she was no longer a _guest_ in the mansion. Guests were people who left eventually, and with the current state of things, this was a term that Lex no longer deemed appropriate for her. Claire's expression when Lex casually stated that they were moving her things upstairs immediately was a mixture of amusement and hesitation, and Lex glanced at her questioningly while she started pulling the hangers from the closet to carry up to the larger suite.

"What?" Claire asked, cocking her head gently to one side and striding past Lex, carrying her clothes with her and striding towards the stairs. "It's just - this is new for me," she admitted. "This whole, moving in with someone thing."

"You've lived here for a while now."

"In the same house, yeah," Claire said with a slightly disbelieving laugh as she sped up her pace to a slight jog and pushed open the door to the upstairs suite, obviously much larger and ornate. "But that's moving in together in the Big Brother, reality TV kind of way."

"And this is...?"

"Different," Claire said, turning around after hanging her things up in the closet. Lex felt a strange sense of relief upon seeing that she was smiling. "It's just different. And I could use a little different in my life," she affirmed. Lex surmised now that Claire's reaction meant that she had never been serious with someone before - he took very little interest in whatever her romantic past may have been, but it was satisfying knowing that he was the first in these uncharted waters.

"While you're looking at dresses, it'd likely behoove you to pick one out - we have a press conference in the morning about your little pet project," Lex said offhandedly, gesturing towards the dresses in the closet before turning on his heel and starting back downstairs, considering some of Claire's belongings still remained in the guest suite. Claire, however, froze while her eyes widened - she paused to process what she'd just heard before scurrying to catch up with Lex as he descended the stairs. Press conference. Tomorrow.

"I'm sorry, _what_?" she asked incredulously as she followed him down the stairs. "You're just telling me this now?"

"Yes, well, I find you're most brilliant when I keep you on your toes," Lex said matter-of-factly, not even turning to look back at her while he kept walking. "Besides, I'm going to do the talking. You're not the only one that Miss Lane's story reflects poorly on. I've essentially been accused of plucking you straight from my bed and having you do the walk of shame right into a leadership position at LexCorp."

"We don't need to -"

"I don't _appreciate_ ," Lex interrupted, gesturing with his index finger to silence Claire's protests, "being accused of my personal endeavors subverting my professional interests. You are the best person for the job. It just also happens that you are, in my humble opinion, the best at... _other things_ ," he concluded, finally turning around with a smirk and a chuckle, cocking his head to one side as he looked at Claire. Begrudgingly, she gave a small laugh, rolling her eyes gently.

The fact that things felt so normal now was perhaps what echoed in the back of Claire's mind as unusual. It was as the events that transpired at the Lake House were the threshold which needed to be crossed - the sentinel event that meant she and Lex, together, could simply be people. It was permission to not fixate themselves upon the role their connection and partnership played in the greater scheme of things. It was permission to be. It was something good, and _something goods_ were too few and far between to question too thoroughly.

The first evening in the master's suite of Luthor Mansion was a strange experience for Claire - Lex slept comfortably next to her, but now she found herself lying awake. She'd read before about the phenomenon of imposter syndrome - of feeling like at some point, you would be exposed as a fraud, like the bubble was just waiting to burst, like you were where you were by some kind of mistake. She was just a girl from the south side who had a brain and had come across some lucky breaks in her time. And now she was here, lying down on thousand-dollar Sferra sheets next to someone for whom she was slowly admitting to herself she felt something that she was reluctant to define, as though saying it might make it blow away like the fluff on a dandelion. It was too safe, too steady, and soon - if she was not careful - it might disappear.

When Claire woke the next morning, however, she found that all of it was still there. She was still under the same luxurious sheets with Lex still asleep next to her, his arm draped possessively over her waist even in his slumber. She gently slid out from his embrace and walked over to the closet in the dim light of the slowly rising run streaming out through the window. The view from the master suite, she realized, was the best in the whole mansion.

"Dark blue one."

Claire turned around to look back at the bed and saw Lex, his fingers laced and interlocked behind his head as he regarded her with bleary-eyed but peaceful sleepiness. Usually, when he dictated things this way - what he preferred her to wear in particular - Claire would very intentionally supersede the suggestion. Today, however, she simply gave a lopsided grin and reached for the navy blue dress hanging in the closet.

Being contrary, after all, took effort - and it was effort that was no longer needed, because those energies were more needed in other endeavors.

Claire wondered if it was a little corny, the fact that she and Lex were color-coordinated, both of them in practically the same shade of navy blue. It hadn't necessarily really dawned on her during the drive to LexCorp headquarters, but the similar colors caught Claire's eye as they stood in the main foyer of the building, watching the crews set up outside for the press conference. Anything, she realized, to distract herself from the fact that she had no idea what to expect from something like this.

"You know whose fault this is? Freaking _Lois Lane_ ," Claire murmured irritably, turning around and busying herself with smoothing out Lex's collar as a distraction - he smirked slightly and let her continue, admittedly relishing the attention from her. Lex Luthor would not deny that being doted upon was a pleasant change. "Lady friend. Can you imagine? That's the reason everyone's all worked up about this -"

"To be fair, the reason everyone is so worked up is the fact that you're an attractive woman climbing up the ranks in a corporate setting - they would've reached the same conclusions without Miss Lane's help," Lex said, tapping the tip of his forefinger gently on Claire's forehead, causing her to bristle in comical annoyance. "But we're going to put those rumors to rest, hm?"

"Okay."

"Excellent," Lex smirked, extending his arm for Claire to take. "Then our audience awaits. My _queen_."

She rolled her eyes gently before looping her arm through Lex's and taking a deep breath as they headed to the podium that had been set up outside and where a flurry of reporters and cameramen were already gathered. Before, cameras had followed them around. Now, Claire realized, they were walking headlong into them. Lex took the space at the podium, gently tilting the microphone and tapping it to ensure that it was working. Once the sound thudded over the speakers, it was as though Chaos had erupted as the reporters began rattling off questions in rapid succession.

"Mister Luthor, do you have anything to say as far as your relationship with Claire Branigan?"

"Is it true that you're living together?"

"What was the vetting and interview process prior to giving Claire Branigan to position at the helm of the pharmaceutical division -"

"Ladies. Gentlemen," Lex chuckled, raising his hand for quiet as he spoke into the microphone. "While I refuse to breach the confidentiality of any of my staff, I can assure you - and I'm sure MIT would without hesitation agree with me - that Claire Branigan is the best candidate for the job. This program is one of LexCorp's highest priorities and fills a much needed gap for the people of Metropolis -"

"But isn't it true that your projects are aiming to gentrify the areas of Metropolis that your father already set aside as safe zones for the poor?" One reporter called out loudly. "Recent numbers suggest that LexCorp is actually pushing the poor out of Metropolis."

"Is it true that the pharmaceutical program only became a priority to compete with the new clinic being opened by Wayne Enterprises on the South Side?" another reporter called out.

And it was in this moment that Claire saw something change in Lex, much like a switch going off behind his eyes. Hidden from the view of the reporters, his hands began drumming on the podium, gripping the edges tightly, balling into fists - his eyes began flitting around as the barrage of questions continued without giving him the opportunity to respond. A sense of determination and anger seemed to well up in Claire's abdomen, seeing them all practically descending on him like a pack of wolves. It was too much for him, Claire realized. Her mind reeled with memories of the first party he threw in his mansion, when she had still been his nurse. She remembered the aftermath, the obsession with what they would be saying about him, how they would be belittling him once he was out of earshot.

"The priorities of... the trajectory of... the division-" Lex stammered, his brow furrowing as he found himself stumbling for words. It enraged him and also terrified him, being questioned this way. Not because of the accusations about Claire and his connection to her, but by the mention of his father. The implication that he was ruining something that his father had built, that his father was infallible and he was not, tugged at the carefully response he was planning to give until it unraveled. It was such a familiar feeling - being stared at and judged, knowing that everyone in the audience was awaiting a mistake, that none of them genuinely gave a damn.

And while Claire knew she had been advised to let him do the talking, she was not about let him stand idly by. She gently edged her way to the side of the podium and managed to share a glance with Lex before he stammered out another attempt at an answer.

"You said I was more brilliant on my toes, right?" she murmured, just out of range of the microphone. "I've got this one."

Still stunned and disoriented, Lex did something that was admittedly entirely unnatural for him - he took a step back. Now, it was Claire facing down the throng of cameras and flashing lights, Claire standing at the microphone and tasked with the mission saving face for both of them. It was terrifying - in her mind, she imagined them all chomping at the bit now that they were presented with fresh meat - all prepared to rip into her reputation just like she believed Lois Lane had. But it was better than doing nothing.

"Miss Branigan, would you like to comment on your relationship with Mister Luthor?"

"How do you feel about your critics who feel like you came upon your position in LexCorp?"

"LexCorp's Affordable Pharmaceutical Initiative is just the first step in affirming our organization's commitment to the people of Metropolis," Claire said primly, and from the brief statement, spoken in a voice that was far from the carefree and sarcastic tone that Lex knew to belong to her, it became evident that she was not simply a silly girl, but rather a force to be reckoned with. "Creating low-income accessible areas was a good start, but LexCorp is committed to taking it one step further - to creating a Metropolis where people are free in their movement, where every part of Metropolis belongs to every citizen," Claire said, gently rapping her hand on the podium. "And I would not have come onboard for this project if I didn't wholeheartedly believe in it. I have lived in Metropolis my entire life. I was born and raised on the south side, in the heart of one of those _safe zones for the poor_ , and I can promise you, they left much to be desired."

It was helpful, she realized, that she had a tendency to poke through the communication strategies that came across Lex's desk for approval. Lex, too, had a realization of his own - that whether Claire was bullshitting or not, she was making him look very good. She validated him. She fought for him.

"Does the institution of this program have to do with trying to beat Bruce Wayne to opening the new Free Clinic?" another reporter asked, and the question caused Claire to fight back the urge to bristle in indignation.

"LexCorp does not allow its operations to be dictated by Wayne Enterprises, or by any other organization," Claire replied sternly. Internally, she wanted so much to scream that Bruce Wayne, who had dragged her into all of this to begin with, had no control over her project - over the product of her hard work - but she knew that it would do their plight no favors to voice this and provide the press with more fodder for gossip.

"But can you say that the move on Mister Wayne's part of resuming operations in Metropolis played no part whatsoever in this decision?" the reporter pressed on. "Is this decision one that is completely altruistic? With all due respect, is it all for the greater good of the people of Metropolis?"

"With all due respect," Claire echoed with a strangely saccharine smile - an expression that strangely made Lex feel excited, even anticipating what would leave her mouth next. It could have gone poorly, he knew. She knew him well enough at this point that acts of charity always required an ulterior motive. It was the way of things. But the knowledge of this truth did not seem to shake her in the slightest. "This initiative will undoubtedly contribute more to the greater good of the people of Metropolis than the gossip and conjecture I'm sure you'll be printing about it tomorrow morning will."

And with one single verbal barb, it became evident that perhaps on paper she was Claire Branigan, Project Manager of the LexCorp Affordable Pharmaceutical Initiative, but in truth, she was better pegged as the new Queen of LexCorp, and already, the headlines began writing themselves. Corny chess analogies - the queen protects her king. Photographs of Lex and Claire again leaving the press conference arm in arm.

Once back inside of Lex's office, behind closed doors, Lex crossed his arms over himself and paced back and forth in front of Claire a few times before looking at her. She felt her breath catch in her throat upon seeing the scrutinizing expression on his face, but breathed a sigh of relief when he finally allowed a smirk to cross his face.

"You make me look very good, Claire," he said, taking the few necessary steps towards her and tilting her chin upwards towards his gaze with the side of his knuckle. "I do like them clever."

"That was terrifying," Claire said, shaking her head with a breathless laugh. "I don't think I've ever been that scared shitless in my life."

"Well, it certainly didn't look it. That was quite the magnificent show - and it appears," Lex said, reaching into his pocket and brandishing his phone to show Claire, "that you have made quite the impression on social media. Very wise to play the ' _I was born raised on the south side_ ' card. They think you're spunky. Charming," Lex smirked, though the magnitude of his amusement quickly decreased as he added an additional observation. "Now everyone's going to want a piece of you."

"Too bad for them, then," Claire said with a smirk, reaching out and again smoothing out the collar of Lex's shirt for good measure. Lex, however, caught her by the wrists and gently lowered her hands between them, leaning forward and gently resting his forehead against hers.

"Good," he said with a devilish smirk. "Because that was quite the adrenaline rush out there. And now _I_ want a piece of you."

* * *

That very same evening, upon the return of the team plus one to Gotham, Bruce made the call that they would be better off regrouping at Wayne Manor. They had come from a long journey and had yet to devise a plan of what happened next, now that they were gathered. Bruce mentally berated himself for perhaps doubting they would ever reach this point and failing to plan - because he had, to some extent, fully expected to fail. However, his worrying over their next steps was sidetracked once they arrived, they were then greeted by the familiar voice and countenance of Alfred Pennyworth in the front drive.

Alfred glanced over them as they arrived, looking travel-weary but altogether in decent condition. His gaze lingered only a millisecond longer on the large figure clad in a hooded coat and immediately surmised that their mission in the Netherlands had been a success. It was good, he concluded, because successes for Bruce Wayne in the past years had been few and far between - he needed one badly.

"An urgent message from Miss Lois Lane came in yesterday evening, Master Bruce," the older man said as the team made their way up the long front walkway. "She came with some information that she felt you would be highly interested in."

"Lois Lane?" Bruce asked, not bothering to mask his surprise that the woman had reached out to him - not out of any presumption of bad blood, but because there was very little reason for any maintained connection between the two of them. "Give her a call, tell her she's welcome anytime now that I'm back in town -"

"The commute may be less than feasible for Miss Lane for the time being," Alfred interrupted pointedly. "When I spoke with her, she was en route to Kansas, and I don't anticipate her being keen on turning around just for your sake. I believe she has some greater priorities to attend to."

"Kansas?" Bruce asked, his brow furrowing as he automatically glanced back towards Diana, who had accompanied him to Smallville, Kansas, months prior in order to pay their last respects to Clark Kent. The only reason to travel to Kansas would be to see Mrs. Kent. Martha Kent. Still, even now, the thought of the woman stirred something in Bruce that he was neither prepared nor willing to identify - only that the idea of something being the matter left him feeling unsettled. "Is something wrong?"

There was a tightening in his stomach at the thought of something possibly being wrong - and the possibility of that something wrong involving Martha Kent.

"I'm afraid the only information I have to relay is, in Miss Lane's words..." Alfred began, pausing for gravitas as he often did. Bruce, however, saw the beginning of a smirk forming at the corner of the older man's lips and knew in that instant that this was merely an example of Alfred Pennyworth's penchant for cheek and melodrama. It was a mystery, but not a cause for alarm. "...he's back."

_He's back._

Bruce found himself shaking his head in disbelief and taking a step backward, turning around to glance back at the newly-formed team gathered behind him. Diana's face, Bruce realized, lookd equally as awestruck as his - they were both arriving at the same unbelievable conclusion.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Pause and rewind for me for a second here," Barry interrupted, raising his hand as though he were a student in a classroom. "Who's back and and where did he go in the first place? I think I might have missed the memo here, could we -"

"Change of plans," Bruce interrupted coarsely. "We're headed to Kansas."


	29. Chapter 29

"You know, I think this is probably the first time Clark has ever had this many friends over at once."

Bruce admittedly appreciated Martha Kent's motherly attempts at assuaging the tension in the room with humor - it was most definitely as unorthodox situation, the entire group of them sitting in the Kent family living room where just months earlier, a group had been gathered for Clark Kent's funeral. All of the warmth and humor in the world, however, were little help. Bruce, Diana, Arthur, Barry, and Victor were all seated awkwardly in various seats around the room with Martha, and it appeared they all had very little to say.

"I think it would be most prudent if Bruce went to speak with him first," Diana finally spoke up. The small smile accompanied with a deep inhale on Martha's part seemed to confirm her agreement with the statement, and she stood up from her chair, walking over to place a hand on Bruce's shoulder. Inexplicably, the movement made him flinch. The singular moment of contact was filled with maternal warmth, and somehow succeeded in making him feel... small. He complied, however, and got to his feet, following Martha down the short hallway to a room with a closed door.

There was a certain level of pain that came with being here - entering a happy home that had once housed a whole family for many happy years. Bruce would be hard-pressed to acknowledge it, but to him, it felt almost as though this home had a soul of its own and a life of its own that he wasn't worthy of coming near. He considered himself a defender of justice - but justice, he had learned, was not always in step with the the concept of good. Good was this family. Good was this home. Good was something that he was not entirely sure he could be anymore, no matter how hard he tried.

"Lois is in there with him. Take your time," she said with a smile, giving Bruce's shoulder a squeeze. Martha then walked away, back towards the living room no doubt to continue entertaining the others who she insisted were not here on business - they were guests in her home. "And around these parts, we don't let guests go hungry," Bruce heard her state down the hall as she returned to take care of the others.

Bruce lingered in the hallway in front of the door for a few moments, his face pulled into a slight frown. It was not, he reasoned, that he was afraid. It wasn't fear. It couldn't be fear. It was simply a reluctance to face things which he still did not understand. Finally, with his jaw slightly clenched, he closed his hand around the doorknob and slowly pushed it open - he gulped at the confirmatory sight.

Lois was seated in a chair at the side of the bed, which was now placed next to a window where the sun streamed in unencumbered, and there under the covers was Clark Kent. Superman. He looked pale, and his eyes seemed slightly sunken, surrounded by dark circles. While the covers were pulled up over him, they were low enough to show his chest underneath, with a bandage over where the spear had pierced, though it was likely more for show than anything else. It seemed unlikely that it would be bleeding after all this time, after all.

Stranger things, however, had happened.

"You're looking a little rough nowadays, Supe," Bruce said, closing the door behind him and crossing his arms over his chest, one side of his mouth quirking into an almost-smirk.

"I think I'm probably looking better than I was last time you saw me," Clark managed to croak out before glancing up at Lois and giving her hand a squeeze - she looked back at him with such love and fondness that Bruce's only means of shrugging off the emotion was snark.

"If I'd had a little more of a heads up I would've brought a gift basket or something. A get well card," Bruce quipped, taking two or three lumbering steps forward but taking care not to get too close. Even if it wasn't said, he still felt as though he were an outsider, encroaching on a moment that wasn't his to enter. "I've been a little busy."

While words still seemed to be difficult for the still-recovering Kryptonian, Clark's expression shifted to one of questioning while he tilted his head to one side. Lois drew in a deep breath and almost imperceptibly shook her head. It was so soon. Admittedly, she wanted a moment where she didn't have to share Clark with the world - where he could simply be Clark and not Superman. The possibility crossed her mind of simply not alerting Bruce about Clark's return, but she knew that it was only a matter of time. This was the man she loved, and this was the kind of thing he did. She had to share him with the world because he _belonged_ to the world.

"Doomsday was just the beginning," Bruce confirmed, immediately feeling a strange sense of remorse for being the bearer of the news that shattered the joy and relief of the moment. "I think you're back just in time."

"Luthor was trying to gather the others like me. Like us," Diana's voice chimed in as she peered her head through the door. "Bruce brought us together first. He's been... a good leader. We wouldn't be here without him."

"We?"

"All of us - we're ready to fight alongside you," Diana confirmed with an eager nod.

"So she _is_ with you," Clark managed to said with a weak laugh as he glanced at Bruce, and despite his pallor and the frailty of his voice, the fact the he was smiling seemed to somehow still give the semblance of strength. "What's happening? With Luthor?"

At this, Bruce and Diana shared a glance and Lois bristled slightly. While she hadn't played a part in their plans, she had quickly surmised that Claire's connection to Lex Luthor was no coincidence, and that there were only a handful of people who could be expected to be involved. If Lois knew, they would have expected no less from her.

"Lex Luthor is out free," Diana explained. "But I doubt that he is our priority anymore. There is a greater threat coming to Earth -"

"A threat that he brought on us," Bruce interrupted, unable to fight back a slight snarl - Clark tensed slightly at the sight of the disagreement between the pair, realizing quickly that the world he was returning to was even more complicated than it had been before. "He's out of our control now."

"He's not our concern," Diana corrected. "Luthor's part has been played, focusing our energies on him is a waste of time." The banter between the pair caused Clark and Lois to share a brief, knowing glance, but they knew that it was not the issue at hand.

"The girl I told you about," Lois said, her voice slicing through the tension with full knowledge that it would get them nowhere. "The nurse? I think she's been keeping him in check, ever since he was released from Arkham -"

"Arkham?" Clark asked, his face contorting into a frown. While Clark Kent was far from an expert of Gotham City and its workings, one was hard pressed to have never heard of Arkham Asylum. Lex Luthor was, perhaps, insane - and indeed, if Clark's objective had been vengeance, he easily could have relished in the knowledge that Lex Luthor had suffered.

But Clark had also seen, behind the manic, destructive, paranoid figure who had threatened to take his mother from him, was the Lex Luthor who had never been able to shed the shackles clamped on him since boyhood. There was inherent humanity in him, too, and if Clark hadn't seen it he wouldn't have bothered preventing the Doomsday beast from destroying him. Whether or not he was correct in his principles, it was Clark's belief in the value of humanity and of life that made the world worth saving. Somewhere even someone Lex Luthor, even if the idea of forgiveness was beyond even the abilities of the purest of hearts, possessed a part of that value.

"Why was he -"

"I had him sent there," Bruce interrupted sternly, immediately realizing that the idyllic concept of Clark's resurrection was shattered. They had for a moment been kindred spirits, but the fact now returned that they fundamentally disagreed on the way the world worked - on how one worked within the world. He sensed Clark's disapproval of his actions, and immediately, the tension in the room grew - swelled to new heights. They were heroes, but not the same kind of hero.

"What I still don't understand is how you returned," Diana spoke up, half out of a desire to divert the conversation from taking an undesired turn, half out of genuine curiosity. At this, Clark's expression went vaguely blank as though he was struggling to come to a description.

"He doesn't remember everything," Lois supplied for him, giving his hand a slight squeeze and immediately hovering more closely over him as though her body could shield him from their questions until she felt like he was ready for them. "He's still recovering -"

"I'll tell them what I can, Lo," Clark said with a determined nod. "I remember somewhere dark. Somewhere that felt like I was surrounded by smoke, like there was nothing there except a - a machine," Clark recounted, gesturing a box-like shape with both of his hands, his expression confused. "I woke up and all I could see was that it was latched onto me..."

"The Mother Box," Diana said with a slight gasp, sharing a glance with Bruce. "Victor's Mother Box."

"...and there was a voice there. But it didn't come from a body. It was like it came from the darkness. It came from all around me," Clark recounted, his brow creasing tightly into a frown. "But it couldn't do anything. It needed... a body."

"Hold on," Diana said, visibly distracted, raising her hand graciously and stepping out of the room - she quickly reappeared with the others, who stood hesitantly in the doorway while Diana reentered, gesturing back at them - Arthur, Barry, and Victor. "This is all of us. I think... I think we must all know what we are facing."

"You think this is our enemy?" Bruce asked. "A disembodied smog voice?"

"I know it is," Diana said solemnly. "I'm not sure how, but I know." She took a breath and glanced back at Victor, whose eyes darted intermittently to the door as though he were tempted to leave but had nowhere to go if he did. "Victor, is it possible that this is the Mother Box you tried to destroy?"

"Yeah," he said, his face deeply frowning as well. "I'm sure it is. Something wants to come to Earth, and the Mother Box is the only way to do it. But..." his face, strangely enough pulled into a brief flash of a grin, "I went to town on that Mother Box. Not gonna lie, I'm a little proud that it isn't working properly."

"But it's still trying," Clark reasoned with a frown. "He said that my body would be the ideal vessel - but he can only take a willing vessel. A pure heart is too full..." His voice trailed off, and realization seemed to dawn on his face as he felt memories of his experience returning as he recited words that were not his own. "...to host the power of Darkseid."

Darkseid.

Victor's eyes closed briefly, and he shook his head in obvious dismay with his hands clenched into fists at his sides. "So this Darkseid," he spoke up in a voice that quavered slightly, "wants to come to Earth. He wants to use the Mother Box -"

"But he can't do it because the Mother Box isn't functioning as he expected," Diana confirmed with a nod. "So the next best thing is to find a body to house him. And of course, Superman was his first choice."

A look of resignation fell over Bruce's face at the confirmation of the threat from a realm with which he had no place fighting. This was not, his mind suggested to him, his fight anymore. The rightful leader of this merry band of metahumans had returned and he was no longer needed. He knew how to deal out justice in the world of men. This was a job for a different kind of hero than he knew how to be. He cleared his throat and again crossed his arms over his chest, taking a step back.

"Well," he said with a forced smirk and a shrug. "It seems like you've all got this situation under control. I guess I'll be in Gotham if you -"

"You're leaving?" Diana asked, frowning in an expression that straddled the border of confusion and outrage. "Bruce, don't be -"

"The real hero's back in town," Bruce shrugged, nodding in Clark's direction. "He's recovering. I don't doubt he'll be back in fighting condition in time for the main event. He's _Superman_. I was just filling in."

And he strode out the room while everyone looked on, stunned, out the front door of the Kent home without so much as a goodbye to anyone in home - most definitely not to Martha Kent. It was better this way. It was better to go back to what he knew. He wouldn't leave the others stranded - they'd be able to take the jet back. Bruce Wayne could very easily get anywhere he needed to be, however he wanted to get there. The simple fact was that he needed to get away from here, no matter how he got there.

He was a good way down the front drive of the Kent farm and down the road when he was met with a whooshing sound that he instantly recognized, and the appearance of a bright red blur in front of him, blocking him from taking anymore steps forward. Bruce rolled his eyes at the sight of Barry Allen, standing in front of him with his hands held up like a trainer attempting to appease a wild animal.

This kid was going to be the death of him.

"Whoa, Mister Wayne," he said, his eyes wide in surprise. "Where are you going?"

"Home."

"Well, can I maybe finish some of those cookies first? I'm pretty sure that Mrs. Kent is just pulling them out of the oven," Barry chuckled, scratching the back of his neck. "And I am honestly starving. My metabolism's just about as fast as the rest of me, and if Superman's hearing is as good as they say, he can probably hear it growling from here."

"You can stay as long as you like - I'm going back alone," Bruce said, allowing his eyes to briefly drift shut while he inhaled through his nostrils. Barry's expression went dumbfounded, and he grimaced in confusion.

"But - but, you know," he said, shaking his head fervently, "for what it's worth, you're kind of my favorite."

There was a pause while Bruce tried to decide how to respond to the younger man's candor - his face went blank, and in response, Barry chimed in with a sing-song voice, " _Awkward_..."

Begrudgingly, perhaps even just to humor Barry a small amount, Bruce gave a throat chuckle that sounded more like a cough, shaking his head and attempting to step past Barry, only to have the younger man take a few backwards steps to remain in front of him. "Look," he continued with his hands up again, "what I mean is, you can't leave us, Mister Wayne. You're our boss man. You're like our... our _Batdad_. You're our leader."

"I'm not the kind of person you wanna count on as a leader, kid," Bruce said, unable to help a slight sneer. He'd been a leader that someone else had counted on before. He had failed, and the pain that remained because of that failure was still evident in his voice. "You're a good guy, Barry. And Clark Kent is a good guy. He's the kind of leader you're looking for."

"But _Mister Wayne_ -"

"Good luck, kid," Bruce said clapping a hand onto Barry's shoulder and gently pushing him back in the direction of the Kent house. He needed him to turn around and go. Bruce didn't have any desire to have anyone else counting on him anymore - not when someone who was clearly more fit and able to protect the team was back. "I'm rootin' for all of you," he said with surprising honesty.

Bruce Wayne reached for his phone to call Alfred, to arrange for transport for him alone back to Gotham - and it was then that Barry realized he didn't stand a chance convincing him. Not now. Not alone. But, he decided with his determination set in his face, that didn't mean he was ready to give up some of the closest things he'd had to true friends in a very long time. Not by a _long shot_. He dashed back into the house to rejoin the others, who stared at him, waiting anxiously for the news.

"He's gonna need a lot of convincing," Barry said, shrugging and shaking his head. "But we've gotta get him back."


	30. Chapter 30

"You're late."

"Considering rush hour traffic and the fact that you gave me less than forty-five minutes' notice to get across Metropolis in it, I think I'm still quite punctual," Claire deadpanned as she stepped out of her car. Lex was already standing in front of the address he'd asked her to meet him at, leaning against his white Rolls Royce and glancing at the time on his phone. At her reply to his playful chiding, he simply chuckled and clucked his tongue.

"Excuses, excuses," he shrugged. "You know, if I didn't value your opinion, I wouldn't have bothered calling you."

"Yeah, about that," Claire said with a quick irk of her eyebrows. "I really know nothing about real estate, Lex, I don't think I'm going to be of any help."

Lex, however, waved the statement off dismissively and started toward the entrance to the building. Claire rolled her eyes gently at being brushed off, but followed him towards the door nonetheless. All she knew about the situation was that he had an appointment with a realtor downtown for a property that he intended to be a new office and employee wellness center. It was a good idea - a fact that was unsurprising, given that Lex by now had developed great savvy in keeping his employees happy - but something that Claire didn't foresee herself being of any use in planning. She simply concluded that Lex wanted her there, whether her input was useful or not, and more than likely would not be swayed.

"Ah, Mister Luthor!"

A man in a somewhat-too-tight blue suit greeted them as they entered the front doors, beaming widely at Lex in a manner that was all-too-familiar. The realtor set off brown-noser alarms all over the place. After shaking Lex's hand with great gusto, he then turned to face Claire and widened his toothy grin yet again, extending his hand to her. "And Missus Luthor! A pleasure to meet you as well. Come, follow me."

"Oh, I'm not -"

"Great location so far, Mister Lafayette, I must say," Lex interrupted, steamrolling right over Claire's protests. Her brow furrowed briefly at not being allowed to correct the assumption on Mr. Lafayette's part that she was Missus Luthor, but, not wanting to fall too far behind, she cleared her throat and followed along as well. Lex just did not want any time wasted, she reasoned. It wasn't a harmful assumption, and correcting it would have provided no additional benefit. That was all.

Admittedly, the main foyer of the building was... _nice_. There really wasn't more that Claire could say. It was modern, well-lit with windows and high ceilings, accented with columns and molding that gave a hint of old glamor. As they moved forward, however, the glimmering interior gave way to tarps and dust and plain old cement.

"We're going through a few renovations - structural updates to justify the asking price," the realtor said, walking a few paces ahead of Lex, who in turn was a few steps ahead of Claire, both of them glancing around at the admittedly rough interior. There were a few tarps laid out in front of areas where the walls were still unreplaced, revealing bits of wiring and scaffolding. While she was no real estate mogul, Claire felt none-too-impressed and wondered why the realtor agreed to show an unfinished property to Lex Luthor of all people, and not even bring about the subject of price negotiations.

"The upper levels?" Lex asked.

"Convertible space," Lafayette replied. "It's already ideally designed to be either residential units or offices."

"And the building foundation?"

"This lot in particular was built on soil, not sediment - topographically, it's the ideal location," Lafayette explained. "You have the option of building a basement level, or leaving it as is. It's also the ideal type of foundation to withstand earthquakes."

"That's a lot of times to use the word ideal in so few sentences," Claire quipped from behind Lex, drawing Lafayette's gaze in her direction. Claire, perhaps, did not understand real estate. She was not a realtor, she was not an architect, she was not a topographer. She was not even a businesswoman. But she did, however, know when someone was bullshitting her, and if nothing else, _that_ was an instinct of hers that Lex held in high regard.

"Mm."

The noncommittal noise that came from Lex's mouth and the subsequent glance he cast at Claire over his shoulder confirmed that they were on the same page. Catching the shared glance, however, the realtor cleared his throat and turned, adjusting the cuffs of his sleeves.

"I should let you know that I've also shown this property to another potential buyer who seems very serious about it," Lafayette said with feigned hesitation. "And he's willing to pay the full list price."

"Is that so?" Lex asked, his brow furrowing skeptically. "You know, I would love to know more about this potential buyer of yours. I make it a point of keeping my finger on the pulse of new local businesses, so to speak. I've got feelers out everywhere, you know," Lex smirked. "And I don't think I've heard hearsay of anyone opening up in this part of town -"

"Not a local," Lafayette said haughtily. "I really shouldn't be telling you this, but in case you want to negotiate between businessmen - and because you are _the_ Mister Lex Luthor - I can make an exception. His name is Mister Desaad, and he's planning on turning the space into a nightclub-slash-urban-getaway -"

"Urban getaway?" Claire couldn't help but interrupt with a skeptical grimace of her own. It evoked images of frat parties (which Claire unfortunately was all too familiar with) and thumping, underground experimental music that was only enjoyable under the influence of hallucinogens. "That sounds like it's just asking for trouble."

"Yes, well, it's not my business what he plans on doing with the space if he has the means to purchase it," Lafayette said smoothly with a grin that Claire admittedly found a little sickening - the reaction on Claire's part did not evade Lex's notice, and his head tilted in acknowledgment of it briefly before Lafayette turned back to face him. "So unless you're able to make me a better offer, Mister Luthor -"

"Mister Lafayette," Lex interrupted. The rapid succession of interruptions from both Lex and Claire, to Lex's delight, seemed to shake the realtor slightly like an outnumbered piece of prey. "I can make you a _much_ better offer. You know very well that money is no object for me."

"Excellent, Mister Luthor -"

"But principle is," Lex said, holding up with index finger to shush the realtor, then reaching out and making a motion like dusting something from Lafayette's shoulder. "And while I know you are first and foremost a salesman, I know you're not one from around here. Because 'round these parts," Lex began, smugly raising his eyebrows and putting on a faux-accent while making gestures with his hands like pistols as though he was coming out of an old Western film. "People know to spare me the sales pitch. Claire, what say we get out of here?"

"Fine by me."

And on the way out, Lex and Claire walked side-by-side rather than one after the other. When they got outside, however, Lex walked over to the passenger side of his Rolls Royce and opened the door, gesturing for Claire to step inside.

"Lunch?" he asked with a lopsided grin and a tilt of his head. "Nothing like a good round of spot the scammer to work up an appetite."

"What about my car? I drove," Claire explained feebly, garnering a dismissive gesture from Lex.

"I'll have someone from valet come and pick it up, bring it back to the office. In we go," he said, finishing off with an almost sing-song lilt and leaving the door open while he went around to his side of the car, indicating that there was no further room for protest.

It became evident a few minutes into the car ride that something about the interaction with the realtor had actually set Lex off a bit - he'd wanted Claire in the car, perhaps unconsciously, because he needed to process it.

"It's unfortunate," he pointed out, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. "We have so many outsiders coming into Metropolis. Opening nightclubs and urban getaways," he said disdainfully. It bothered him, Claire knew, because he felt some level of ownership over the city of Metropolis and had little tolerance for outsiders - from other cities or from other worlds - changing it in ways he did not exert any control over. In ways above and beyond his control. This was his city.

"It's the approaching curve," Lex said vaguely, his eyes focused on the road and his voice distant as though he perhaps wasn't talking to Claire at all. "And the curve is where you get thrown off if you don't hold on tightly enough."

"It's just a nightclub, Lex," Claire spoke up, attempting to assuage his unexpected response - the almost fanciful turn of speech that Claire knew meant that he was veering hard into his own thoughts. "There'll be other spaces."

"That man was trying to play me, and I don't appreciate being played," Lex said with a chilly calm to his voice, his eyebrows raised. "There are precious, precious few individuals I trust not to do so. Because people, by nature, are self-serving creatures."

Despite the ominous tone of his voice, Claire also sensed that the moment of intense, all-consuming paranoia had been averted, replaced instead my annoyance and disdain. His explanations of why this nightclub, in addition to other businesses popping up throughout Metropolis, were nothing but a nuisance continued for a good few minutes of their drive until the white Rolls Royce Wraith pulled up in front of a brightly-lit, diner-like restaurant with the name Suzy's Drive In emblazoned on the neon sign above it.

"Nice," Claire laughed as she stepped out of the car, looking up at the place and glancing around. "I like it. Very _Grease_."

"I thought a little nostalgia was in order," Lex said, smug at the sight of the fact that his choice of lunch venue seemed to impress Claire greatly. It was befitting, after all. A place like this was a relic of what was at least perceived as a simpler time, and Lex held fast to his simpler times with great devotion.

The interior was shiny and polished, with color and chrome and lights. Lex and Claire took a seat on the diner stools rather waiting for a table. They ordered French fries, and a strawberry milkshake. Two straws, Claire insisted, because that was the way they did it in the movies and she had always wanted to try it, but never had anyone to try it with. Lex saw no harm in indulging her.

It felt like a movie, Claire couldn't help but think to herself - the movies she watched as a kid when she locked herself away in her room, hiding from her mother's incessant criticisms and histrionics - and of all the people who could have given her movie scene moments, it was Lex Luthor.

Lex Luthor was not an optimist, but Claire Branigan was, and for a brief instant she pondered the possibility that they were getting movie scene moments because they needed them more than most.

As a consequence of her musings, however, it turned out that Claire stared a little longer in Lex's direction than she'd intended, meaning that he'd caught and held eye contact with her dreamy stare for at least a full second before she realized it was happening.

"Mm," he said with a slightly puzzled expression, his forehead creasing and his eyes narrowing slightly despite the fact that his lips still quirked into a smirk. "What?"

"Nothing."

"Doubtful. You're either deep in thought or hypoglycemic, and considering this," Lex said matter-of-factly, tapping his finger against the glass containing what was left of the milkshake they'd been drinking, "I'd consider the latter highly unlikely. So?"

"I said it was nothing," Claire insisted, color flooding into her cheeks and garnering a chuckle from Lex, who shook his head.

"And I said that was doubtful. So here we are," he shrugged. "What is it?"

"It's just..." Claire began hesitantly, laughing uncomfortably to herself. "I... I enjoy being around you. More than I think I've ever enjoyed being around anyone," she said. It was the truth, after all. It just wasn't the whole truth. Lex, however, was not laughing. His face went from pleasantly confused by her beating around the bush to genuinely perplexed. She enjoyed being around him. She enjoyed it more than being around anyone else.

There was the possibility that it was a lie. This was the first thing that came to Lex's mind, because it seemed the most reasonable and most likely explanation. People did not enjoy his company. There was a saying that some people, others preferred to have them seen and not heard. In the case of Lex Luthor, most preferred him to be neither. To now hear that someone enjoyed his company to such an extent - to a superlative extent - was something akin to being a figure in a shaken snowglobe. No matter how many times he heard such things from her, it seemed to turn the snowglobe upside down every time.

"Why?" he asked, his brow furrowing. His reaction caused Claire to tilt her head in concern, an expression which Lex had become incredibly familiar with receiving from her.

"You don't need a reason to enjoy being around someone," she said gently, but with an expression which suggested that to her, this was the simplest truth in the world. "You can just... I don't know, enjoy them."

"There's a reason for everything," Lex said, shaking his head. "It might be situational. Psychological. Biochemical. But there is always, always a reason."

There was a moment of mild frustration - Claire momentarily wondered why Lex couldn't accept an answer of _just because_ , but it was only fleeting because she knew. _Just because_ was unacceptable. _Just because_ could not be understood or controlled, and that made it something that Lex could not tolerate. But if she presented it as a puzzle for him to figure out, rather than a riddle with no answer, it became something different. Lex Luthor enjoyed the occasional conundrum, as long as it was not unanswerable.

This one had a clear answer that Claire simply was not yet prepared to divulge.

"Then I guess you'll need to figure out my reasons," Claire said with a playful grin. There was something nice about being the one that kept Lex Luthor guessing - it certainly wasn't something that she could say she'd experienced often. "I'm sure it'll come to you."

"Is that so?"

"Absolutely. You're very clever," Claire said with a smirk, which widened just before she added, "and... I do like them clever."

Perhaps it was an evasive maneuver to avoid answering the question, but even so, the brief glimmer of a smile - not a smirk, but a smile - flashing across Lex's face was enough of a reward. Besides, having the tables turned, even for just a moment, was refreshing. Eventually and probably very soon, the whole truth would need to come out, but for now the existence of a moment that was simple and good was more than enough for Claire. She gave a small surprised sound when, under the counter, Lex's hand gently brushed against hers. In response, rather than moving her whole hand, Claire wound her pinky finger around his so that their fingers were linked under the table.

Almost as though the strange purity of the moment enchanted her into it, she opened her mouth to speak again with half the mind to tell the whole truth - but she was cut off by the sound of Lex's phone, which he immediately, reflexively pulled out from his pocket with one hand, pulling his other hand away from her as he turned, ensuring that the screen of his phone was concealed.

His posture shifted. He straightened in his chair, and his expression hardened back into the familiar mask of Lex, the businessman. "I have to take this," he said simply, getting up from the seat and heading towards the back door.

Claire felt her heart sink a little into her stomach as she realized this was something she would either need to come to terms with or walk away from. Even if there were movie moments, they would always be punctuated by moments like these, by secrets and subterfuge and things which she could not or would not be a part of. There was something protective about it - partially Lex protecting himself, and partially him protecting her. There were things he did out of her sight that he felt it better she was not a part of.

She let out a breath, running her hand over her hair and shaking her head until she realized that in her purse, her phone was vibrating as well - something that came unexpected these days, because very few people besides Lex, who was currently otherwise occupied, tried to contact her. She reached into her bag and glanced at the screen to find a text message from a number with an area code belonging to Gotham City. The number itself was vaguely familiar, and Claire reached into her wallet to pull out a business card she had long ignored to confirm her suspicions of who the number belonged to.

She glanced over her shoulder to make sure Lex wasn't returning before opening the unexpected message.

_Important. Can we meet? Tomorrow at four, back room of Cafe Trevino._

After a few seconds of processing what she was seeing - who she was hearing from - she drew in a deep breath and texted a one-word response before deleting the message altogether. Knowing who it was coming from, the choice came down to whether she would go willingly, or risk being sought out. Being sought out meant drawing whoever was looking for her closer to Lex as well. And that, she concluded, was something she would go to great lengths to prevent.

It would appear, she realized as she tucked her phone back into her purse and attempted to steady her pounding heart, that Lex would not be the only one with secrets from time to time.


	31. Chapter 31

Claire quickly realized on her way to Gotham City that keeping secrets from Lex felt even worse now than it did before - but this time, at least, it was for a good reason. Wasn't it? This time she was deceiving him to protect him. That was different. It had to be.

She pulled up as directed in from of Cafe Trevino, and it appeared that the concierge at the front of the house had already been expecting her, as he immediately came over and nodded in greeting, almost bowing. There was a brief moment where Claire realized that this is was power felt like - people knowing you, recognizing you, walking you through large crowds of people who once would have thought they were better than you. But in the next instant, Claire realized that she was not sure if she liked this feeling. She didn't like the attention it drew, even in passing, and was fully relieved when the concierge opened the door to the private dining room in the back, which was already inhabited by one other person.

"Thank you for agreeing to meet with me," Bruce Wayne said, seated at the table where it appeared he had already been served with hors d'oeuvres and sparkling water. Claire walked into the room and allowed the concierge to shut the door behind her, leaving her feeling caged in with none other than the very person who had started all of this.

"I took it as a good sign that you sent me a message instead of, you know, kidnapping me again. Or breaking into my living room," Claire deadpanned, walking over and taking the seat across the table from him. "I'm of the belief that progress should be rewarded."

There were multiple things in Claire's response that made Bruce fight back the urge to cringe. First, the fact that breaking into her living room now no longer meant a dingy downtown apartment - it meant Luthor Mansion. Second, the fact that while she had never lacked biting wit, he could hear small inflections in her voice that suggested Lex Luthor might in fact be rubbing off on her. Rather than outwardly reacting, however, he reached over and poured some sparkling water into the empty glass in front of her, weighing her response to being in his presence again.

"This wasn't an act of kindness on my part. I figured," Claire began again, keeping her eyes on the glass with a level of suspicion that Bruce found both unexpected and understandable, "that the closure on this whole debacle would be helpful for me."

"This isn't about closure," Bruce said flatly. "I know what you've been doing, Claire, and I'm concerned -"

"I don't need your concern," Claire replied in an equally frigid tone. "I don't need a - a _father_ figure, Mister Wayne."

"I get it. You're a grown woman. You know exactly what you're doing," Bruce answered with a roll of his eyes. "Straight out of the Lois Lane, Diana Prince playbook. I've heard this speech before, I understand."

"No, Mister Wayne, I don't think you do," Claire said, sliding the glass away from her. Her gaze grew steely in anger, and she leaned her forearms against the table so she was also leaning closer across the table. "You placed me in this position, Mister Wayne - right where I am right now. But you also told me that I... what was it?" she asked, pretending briefly not to remember. "That's right. That I _always had a choice_. Well, I made it, Mister Wayne. And none of this would be possible if not for you."

Bruce clenched his teeth as Claire got up from her seat, prepared to walk out of the restaurant altogether. He hadn't expected a warm reception from her, given the circumstances, but he also had not expected nearly this response. The fact remained, however, that he couldn't let her leave without having fulfilled his objective - he would not have gotten involved if he had the intention of failing. It sickened him and it exhausted him, but for a moment, he forced himself to slip into the Bruce Wayne that the public knew.

"Miss Branigan," he said clearly, and hearing her voice spoken with such a shift in tone caused Claire to turn around with an irked eyebrows. "Before you go, I should probably let you know that I'm very good friends with the owner of this restaurant."

"Good for you."

"See that right there?" Bruce said, shutting one eye and making a gesture as though he were aiming at an intricate vase placed on a small decorative shelf. "That's a camera. And that's a camera," he said, shifting his gaze to an ornamental piece perched right about the doorway Claire was heading for. Claire's eye immediately narrowed and she turned so that her entire body now faced him, her arms crossed over her chest.

"If you hear me out, just for a few minutes, then the footage goes away," Bruce began again, inwardly cringing at having to be this person. "Otherwise... I know there's nothing particularly incriminating about this meeting, but I think the Metropolis Daily Enquirer would be more than happy to make conjecture about what half of the _new face of healthcare in Metropolis_ is doing on a cozy private lunch with Bruce Wayne. Mister Luthor and I have a bit of a friendly rivalry going on. Not sure if you were aware."

Bruce could immediately sense Claire's hackles raising, and could immediately feel his own sense of disgust with himself elevating as well. Her lip curled into a sneer, and angrily, she paced back over and yanked the chair away from the table, taking a seat and crossing her arms again.

"Some things just don't change, do they?" she asked in enraged disbelief. "So much for heroes."

"I'm not a hero. Not anymore," Bruce interrupted, relieved at the very least to be able to drop the facade, allowing his expression again to go practically blank. "I walked away from that."

"Really? I couldn't tell."

He grimaced and willed himself not to lose his temper with the younger woman - Claire, Bruce reasoned, had every right to be furious. He hadn't planned this conversation going well, only for it to be carried out to the end. This wasn't about closure for _her_. As selfish as it was, it was intended to be closure for _him_.

"You made a decision. I get that," Bruce said, leaning across the table with his forearms resting against the edge. "But on principle, I can't allow you to make it without knowing what's happening."

"I think I'm good with the Sparknotes version. Superman's dead. Batman wants revenge. Claire is accessible. Lex is an easy target," Claire prattled off with feigned nonchalance. "I don't need more explanations."

"Your Sparknotes needs updating," Bruce said, shoving his tongue into his cheek and hesitating briefly before continuing, wavering in light of what he knew Claire would do with the information - but it was information she had a right to, because she was right. He had brought her into this. "Superman is alive."

He could deduce just how innocent Claire was, despite her biting sarcasm, by the unfiltered nature of her responses. With only that short statement, Claire's rage melted into a look of utter shock and confusion, her brow knitting as she tried to understand. It was in this moment that despite what he felt he was doing to her, he felt a sense of camaraderie with her - Claire, too, was another mere human caught up in a world that was becoming far too big for her. He knew that look. He knew that feeling.

"You don't want to admit it, but you know that this is going to drive Lex Luthor over the edge when the world finds out that Superman isn't dead," Bruce said knowingly. "And the world will know, Claire. Because that's what Superman is. This won't stay a secret for long."

"Well, since you're such good buddies with him, maybe you can convince him to just live a regular life like the rest of us," Claire said before really putting any thought into her words, speaking straight from the gut rather than from the brain. "Metropolis is getting by just fine without him -"

"The whole world is going to need him. Soon. I don't know when," Bruce said, his jaw slightly clenched. "Something is coming, and Luthor knew about it before anyone else."

At this, Claire tensed because she knew that she could not dispute this claim. She knew that what Lex had seen or heard of thought he had seen or heard on the Kryptonian ship, and she had heard him say himself that he too felt something was coming - hearing this same claim coming from Bruce Wayne merely cemented the idea that it was not all just some figment of imagination. She first looked upward, then down at the table, rubbing the back of her neck. It was real. It was happening. As much as she hated to admit it, Bruce Wayne was right that this was not something Lex could take lightly.

"Whatever it is, it's called Darkseid," Bruce said in a hushed tones, leaning across the table towards Claire. "And the only way it gets to Earth is by way of _this_. But this one is damaged. He needs a host - he wanted that host to be Superman, but he failed because he wasn't willing. He's not that kind of person. But it's only a matter of time."

Claire looked up to see Bruce producing his cellphone and turning the screen towards her to reveal a slightly blurred screenshot of the Mother Box taking over the body of Victor Stone. She gulped hard and clenched her eyes shut for a moment before finally making eye contact with Bruce again. "Why are you telling me this?" she asked, shaking her head in disbelief. "I'm done with all of this, Mister Wayne. I didn't want -"

"I don't trust Lex Luthor as far as I can throw him," Bruce said honestly. "And I don't know if he has anything to do with this. Chances are, you don't either. But this is a Mother Box. And if Lex Luthor gets his hands on one -"

"Lex is trying to get his hands on a lot of things, but that's not one of them," Claire said with more confidence than she actually felt. "He's been through enough horrors on this planet to focus on things from others - and I'm not going to pretend you didn't contribute to that."

"I'm only telling you this because if you're going to make this choice, I won't allow you to make it without knowing the truth -"

"You won't _allow_ me to!" Claire repeated in a shrill, mocking voice. "Mister Wayne, I hate to break it to you, but I'm not under your control anymore."

"Point taken. But do me one favor," Bruce said, again shifting to a tone of feigned calm. "I have one question for you to ask Lex Luthor, and if he gives you an honest answer, see if it changes your mind."

Claire went silent, admittedly wondering what question could in Bruce Wayne's mind be so vast a paradigm shift that it could change everything. Sensing the moment of vulnerability, Bruce leaned slightly closer and tilted his head to one side.

"Ask him what happened to Mercy Graves."

"That's a stupid question," Claire sneered with a roll of her eyes. "She died in the explosion. I already know -"

"Ask him why he let her die." And at this, Claire again froze, her sneer still frozen in place in Bruce's direction while she shook her head in disbelief. "You know what he's done, Claire. You know what he's capable of."

"I know what you're capable of too," she retorted, gently irking an eyebrow and fearlessly leaning back across the table in response. In this moment, despite the fact that she was a mere human - a mere mortal - he saw a glimmer of Diana Prince in her. He saw a flash of the same daring, the same gall. He saw even more of it when she slowly, gracefully got to her feet and tilted her head gently to one side. "And you know I'm going to tell him all of this, no matter what you threaten me with. You know that."

"There are no cameras, Claire," Bruce admittedly, shaking his head and pinching the bridge of his nose. She looked genuinely surprised, blinking in disbelief as though unsure of whether or not to accept the explanation. "You're free to go."

"I always was. I guess I just wish I'd figured that out sooner," she said with a surprising gentleness to her voice when she regarded him for a moment before nodding and turning on her heel. She made her way purposefully toward the door, but found when she pulled it open that her way was blocked by a taller, olive-skinned woman. The woman from the car, the same woman she had seen with Bruce Wayne before. Bruce sat up in surprise at the sight of Diana Prince in the restaurant as well.

"I'm glad to see you well," Diana said with a nod, glancing over Claire who simply nodded back wordlessly and hurried off, seemingly in awe of the woman. Diana watched Claire leave for a few moments before stepping into the private dining room with Bruce and closing the door behind her. "You're losing your touch, perhaps. You're relatively easy to track down these days."

"How'd you manage?" he asked, nodding to the chair which Claire had just vacated. Diana obliged, taking a seat and crossing her legs smoothly, quirking one side of her lips into a grin.

"A certain butler with unlimited access to your calendar."

"I figured as much," Bruce confirmed, begrudgingly smirking in response. "Alfred's grown unreasonably fond of you."

"If it's all the same, Bruce, I'd like to cut to the chase," Diana answered shortly. "You are not going to walk away from us. Not now that we know what's coming."

"This is beyond my level of expertise. I'll leave it to all of you more qualified -"

"Say the word metahumans and I swear by the gods, you will regret it," Diana interrupted with arched brow, only half-joking. However, after a few moments' pause, a small smirk played at her lips - because she knew that one way or another, she was going to come out of this discussion victorious. "You're not walking away from what you built, Mister Wayne. I'm afraid I will not allow it."

* * *

"It's a pleasure to finally meet you in the flesh, Leonard. Lenny. Can I call you Lenny?" Lex asked with a facetious grin, pouring the man a drink while they took a seat in the study of Luthor Mansion. "Of course I can. Thank you for agreeing to meet with me."

"A criminal record and a moral compass aren't mutually exclusive, Mister Luthor. I'm a man of principle. You spent two million dollars to get me out of jail, and the least I could do is find out why."

While Lex remained nonchalant about the meeting he'd arranged, it was in fact a more delicate operation than he would admit. Back on his first foray into Central City with Claire, when he'd given Lubrano the bail money, Snart had also been instructed to a particular meeting place and time where once the dust had settled and if he so chose, a private jet would be waiting to escort him to Metropolis.

"Well," Lex said, walking over and offering Leonard the glass of bourbon, keeping one for himself as well. "You came all this way, so I'll cut to the chase. You have a nemesis," he said with a knowing, almost teasing grin. "And your nemesis is now bosom buddies with someone with whom I myself have a great deal of bad blood. So naturally -"

"So naturally, you think it's that simple?" Leonard asked skeptically. "You think that -"

"I think that you're an intelligent man. An inventor," Lex said plainly, nodding in slight deference to the man in front of him. "And the things you've managed to invent while in hiding, with such limited resources, is astonishing. Just astonishing. Which is why I want to back your work with the full support of LexCorp's research and development division."

"The catch, Mister Luthor."

"No catch. Just a favor that I think you'll be more than willing to do me once you know that Barry Allen is now under the wing of Wayne Enterprises as a part-time consultant. Jet-setting, hotel suites, hefty paycheck for spending the weekend schmoozing with Bruce Wayne's business partners -"

"And why would I care?"

"Because, Lenny," Lex said, reaching over and clapping a hand onto Leonard's shoulder with feigned warmth. "Bruce Wayne is Batman. The Bat of Gotham. The Dark Knight."

Leonard Snart's eyes narrowed. While it was not a matetr of personal acquaintance, the reputation of the Bat spread far beyond Gotham, and the idea of Barry Allen having a friend in such a high place was - as Lex had already foreseen - enough of a threat to make Leonard Snart feel somewhat more compliant with his ideas.

"I know about your little secret club back home. The Rogues, is it?" Lex asked, his brow furrowing as though he didn't know the answer to the question, though he fully well did. He cleared his throat and took a drink from his scotchglass before continuing. "I think it's noble, what you all do. Robbing from the rich to teach them a lesson about indulgence and -"

"We steal from people like you, Mister Luthor."

"Yes, and by all means, take something on your way out," Lex said, making a wide gesture, careful not to spill his drink. "I'd advise you to stay away from the heavy things, just for the sake of fuel economy on the flight back to Central City."

"You're insane."

"Yes, that's well-documented by now, isn't it? Mm." Lex smirked mischievously, cocking his head to one side. "But that's besides the point now. The point is, someone you hate - and I genuinely don't want or need to know your reasons - is now part of a team of very powerful people. And this team of very powerful people requires a team of more very powerful people to counter it. See, I'm a man of principle too, Lenny. And the principle I value is is balance. Order. And if you'll agree to help me maintain that, then I think you'll find that I am a very valuable friend to have."

Leonard Snart did not agree immediately - but he also did not refuse, and Lex was of the belief that making the opponent hesitate was the first step to wearing them down, and wearing them down was consequently the first step to victory.

"Take your time, have a couple more drinks, make yourself at home," Lex said with deceptive calm in his voice, walking over and taking a seat himself, picking up a remote control which powered on a repurposed television made to look like an old wooden set. "We've got time."

When he turned on the television, however, the sight on the screen caused him to take a brief moment of pause himself when the video footage was of a traffic jam, zoomed in on the cars all at a complete halt.

'This is footage from a couple of hours ago on the Metro Narrows Bridge where a biohazardous waste spill brought traffic to standstill on the Metropolis-bound side," the voiceover from a reporter recited primly. "Commuters trying to get into Metropolis from Gotham City were stopped for an entire ninety minutes before the spill was finally able to be cleaned up."

And there in the middle of the traffic jam was Claire's car. And Claire. Lex quickly put two and two together that while he had assumed Claire was at work - he had specifically planned this meeting when he knew that she would likely be busy - she was in fact coming back from Gotham City. Claire was in Gotham. Claire had gone to Gotham without his knowledge.

"Mister Luthor?"

Lex snapped out of the slight distracted daze he had gone into at the sound of Leonard trying to get his attention. For a moment, Snart eyed Lex with scrutiny, seeing that in a few brief moments, something in him had shifted. This, however, did not appear to have worked against Lex, as Leonard Snart gave a slow, approving nod.

"In exchange for me helping you maintain balance against this team of... superheroes," Snart said, repeating to ensure he was understanding the deal being placed in front of him, "I receive access to any facilities I want to create the tools I need. Am I missing anything?"

"No, sir, you are not. It's a simple bargain," Lex said, putting the grin back onto his face and shrugging with a strange sort of boyish innocence. "And quite possibly the beginning of a very productive friendship."

"Don't push it -"

They were interrupted by the creaking of a door hinge, and Lex suddenly got to his feet in time to see Claire walking in the door, past the entrance to the study, and freezing at the sight of the fact that she had not come home to an empty mansion. For a short moment, despite the fact that Claire didn't know just how much Lex knew, there was an electric silence that fell between the pair. Leonard, however, stood up and glanced back and forth between them.

"You've got yourself a deal, Mister Luthor. And it also looks like you've got yourself a real looker of a girlfriend, so I won't keep you any longer," he said with a smirk, walking towards the door and pausing next to Claire who seemed only to recognize him in that very moment. "We'll save the introductions for another time," he said with a nod in Claire's direction before walking away, out the front door.

"That's the robbery suspect from Central City," Claire said in a shocked tone, her eyes wide as she glanced back over her shoulder once Leonard was already gone. "You're working with him?"

"Mister Snart and I are pursuing a lucrative joint venture," he said with a vague, distant grin, and the mere tone of his response was enough to alert Claire that he was not interested in explaining himself because he had something else that he was set on discussing. "Now, the million dollar question," Lex said, grabbing a new glass and glancing between the two liquor bottles, deciding which to pour out for Claire - the bourbon or the butterscotch Schnapps - before eventually settling on the latter. "Where were you this afternoon?"

Lex expected that she would say she had been at work. He was prepared, mentally organizing the litany of evidence against her, ending with the fact that he had seen her car in the traffic jam on the news coming back into Metropolis. He was prepared for her to lie because he knew that he had a weapon against it. He was, however, unprepared for the answer she did provide.

"I was in Gotham," she said calmly, walking over and picking up the glass Lex had poured for her. Lex, however, was torn between relief and a brand new, enraging suspicion.

"In Gotham," he repeated, swirling the contents of his glass and looking down before turning his gaze upward to her. "Paying an old employer a visit?"

This could have been one of two things - visiting the clinic, or visiting its owner. Claire paused for a moment, moving her tongue in her cheek as she mulled over her answer. Her hesitation only seemed to irk Lex even more.

"What were you doing there?" he asked, concealing the impending transition of his voice into a snarl. "Claire -"

"I was meeting with Bruce Wayne," she said honestly, causing Lex to sharply tilt his head and narrow his eyes as he processed the revelation. But she was honest. She told the truth fearlessly, and that was not the sign of someone who felt guilty about what they had done. "He asked to meet with me."

"How kind of him to ask this time," Lex said, his upper lip curling into a sneer as he shifted his weight. "Claire, I don't think I need to remind you -"

"I didn't meet with him out of friendship," Claire said in exasperation. "I met because he said it was important - and I think it's going to be important to you too."

"The only thing of value coming from the mouth of the Bat would be news that he plans to pull out of Metropolis for good."

"This is bigger than that."

"Nothing is bigger than -"

"Superman is alive."

Lex gulped, his expression going sickly pale at the sound of the statement, spoken in true Claire fashion. Calm. Composed. In her eyes, he could practically see his own reflection, see the way his body reflexively crumpled as though he were something small and insignificant just at the knowledge that he and Superman still existed on the same planet.

"That's impossible," Lex said, his face contorted in a strange mix of paranoia and rage. He was dead. Superman was dead. There could be no alternative answer besides this because Lex had dedicated so much effort, so much planning, had suffered so much to see this order restored. "How could he possibly -"

"I don't know," Claire lied - she felt her stomach churn at the fact that this lie came so easily. But she had already decided that Lex did not need to be privy to all of the information that Bruce Wayne had imparted, even if only for his own safety. All of this talk of threats and dangers from other planets would send him over the edge, if the knowledge of Superman's survival did not do so already.

Claire was not willing to do damage that she couldn't fix.

"He said that I deserved to know," Claire continued, gently shifting her own weight. "Said that I didn't know what I was getting into with you."

"And your response?"

"That I'm a grown woman and that he doesn't control what I do."

"Good."

Despite the brief, terse response, Claire's declaration of loyalty was perhaps an even greater shock to Lex, who had yet to fully come to terms with the idea that Claire was genuinely loyal to him - loyal to him, even at her own expense. He gulped, still appearing as though he would be sick at any moment, looking down at the contents of the glass in his hand.

One more enemy who could come for him at any moment. One more enemy who was stronger than him. Greater than him. His grip tightened around the glass, his knuckles going as pale as his face, his hands shuddering. However this had happened, whatever had brought Superman back from the dead, it no doubt meant that the probability of impending doom around every turn was even greater.

Bruce Wayne had his merry band of heroes - and now, Clark Kent had come to join them. It meant simply that Lex Luthor needed to rise to the occasion, now on a tighter deadline than he'd foreseen. His sins, sins he did not even _see_ as sins, were coming home to roost.

Claire, however, felt for the first time a sense of worry for her own well-being - because she, too, was only human. She, too, was vulnerable, and very explicitly chosen a side where her protection would be very limited. It now became fully clear to her that to side with Lex was to be _against_ Batman - and against Superman. Choosing Lex meant choosing to be on the bad side of some of the most powerful beings on Earth. At the very least, she decided, Bruce Wayne had been correct about one thing. She deserved to know what was happening. She deserved to know the trap she may have willingly stepped into.

"Bruce Wayne also suggested I ask you something."

"Mm. Did he?" Lex asked, looking up and seeing that for the first time, it was Claire unsurely averting her gaze - and he for the first time, he felt a real sense of fear that Bruce Wayne had gotten into her head, that he had planted a seed that would turn her against him. Finally, however, she managed to overcome whatever plagued her, looking up and again meeting Lex's eyes.

"What happened to Mercy Graves?"

"She died," Lex said matter-of-factly, though his grip on the scotchglass in his hand flinched. "In the explosion at the -"

"You know what I mean, Lex," Claire said calmly, her eyes briefly fluttering shut as she realized from Lex's reaction that she had veered irrevocably into the path of an answer she would not be happy to hear, whatever it turned out to be. "Why did you leave her there to die?"

"Because," Lex said, raising his eyebrows. "I could tell that slowly but surely, she was starting to get greedy. I could see it in her. And she was too close to the core to take even the slightest chance -"

"Sort of like me."

"No," Lex said sharply, gesturing with his index finger and shutting his eyes in exasperation as though Claire were a whining, uncooperative child. "No. Not like you. You're different."

"I'm different?" Claire asked incredulously. "I'm different? That's all you have to say, Lex, is that I'm different?"

"I could see in her that in time, she would come to relish the power that came with what we were doing - power that was never meant to belong to her," Lex said matter-of-factly, circling Claire. She could see the slightly frenzied look to him, the cumulative effect of all that had been said and learned, but this time she could not bring herself to stop the conversation solely for the sake of protecting him from this distress. This had to happen. This had to be laid out into the open. "But you, Claire," Lex began, stopping in front of her and leaning in close to her face so that there was no way for her to avert her gaze without moving away from him - without conceding. Concession was something that Claire Branigan simply did not do.

"I've handed you power. I've handed you the means and the knowledge and the freedom to control everything I have built. If I'm the king of Metropolis, then the city sees you as its queen, and everyone knows that the queen is where the power lies," he said, wagging his finger before planting his hands on his waist. "And not once have I seen the slightest inkling that you've come to love the power that you have. On the contrary," he said with a slightly higher-pitched lilt in his voice. "I don't get the impression that you want it at all. There are many kinds of power. Influence. Money. Vengefulness. Superhuman strength. But if you don't love power in any of those capacities," Lex said, pausing and giving a shrug and a melodramatic sigh. "Then you are not a threat to me."

"Heartwarming. I feel so very special now. I'm so glad that you see me as benign," Claire said with a slight sneer before rolling her eyes and starting to walk away - most likely to the balcony, or somewhere else to sulk. Lex, however, caught her by the forearm - a motion he had not made in a good while, because conflicts such as these had been so seldom in recent weeks - and pulled her back so that their faces were mere centimeters apart.

"I'd be lying if I said you were still my only ally," Lex said in a near-whisper, knowing that there was no use in trying to gloss over the meeting Claire had walked in on a matter of minutes earlier. "But suffice it to say, you are my most _important_ ally. And now more than ever, now that he's back... I am not going to lose you."

He released his hold on her arm, and his eyes slowly scanned over her face for some indication of a response - some kind of sign that she was understanding not only what he said, but what he meant by it. Claire gulped gently, and for a brief moment, it looked as though she had something to say, but she bit back the words as though she had thought better of it. Instead, she shifted and drew herself up to full height, taking a steadying breath.

"If you were going to lose me... as an ally," she specified pointedly, the sharpness in her voice indicating the deeper implications of the statement, "it would have happened a long time ago. But I haven't gone anywhere. And I'm not going anywhere except to bed," she said matter-of-factly before turning on her heel and walking out the door to the study, towards the stairs. She stopped in her tracks when she did not hear footsteps following her, and she turned back around to see Lex still in the study, now having turned around to stare at the painting on the wall - the Gustave Dore print turned upside down. "Lex," Claire called out in a voice that was quiet but firm.

Lex seemed, for the first time in a long time, entranced by the painting, and Claire felt herself tense as she realized this was all to do with Superman being alive. Superman being alive meant that Lex was small again. He was powerless. Insignificant. "Lex," she called out again more firmly. He let out a choked, cough-like laugh.

"I'll only be a minute."

"If you're not upstairs in twenty, I'm coming back for you," Claire stated. While Lex did not turn around or acknowledge the statement, she saw his tense shoulders relax slightly upon hearing the words. I'm coming back for you. She let out a sigh and shook her head, starting upstairs. Twenty minutes was enough time to get dressed and let her hair down, at the very least, before she would have to double back and find a way to drag Lex away from his father's study - from his place of power.

Upon changing and getting out of the master suite bathroom, however, Claire found that Lex had already made his way into the suite and fallen asleep on top of the covers. The sight was a welcome one - one that Claire hadn't expected. She had half expected Lex to stay awake, pacing his father's study all night. Shutting off the light, she slowly, lightly clambering into bed as well, reaching over and gently brushing the hair from his face now that he was asleep and unaware of the gesture.

"For what it's worth," she whispered, unsure if any bit of it would be heard in Lex's sleep. "No one will get to you without getting through me first."


	32. Chapter 32

"Claire."

The sensation of an elbow gently prodding into her side roused Claire from what had been a sound slumber, but she still refused to open her eyes, instead reching blindly and pulling a pillow over her face.

"No."

" _No,_ " Lex chuckled sleepily. "If I recall, you have a stack of paperwork for some of the partner clinics in _your_ program that are supposed to be on _my_ desk by three-thirty this afternoon."

Claire groaned and swatted Lex's hand away when he reached over to fiddle with her hair - it was an affectionate habit he had acquired which she would normally lean into, resting peacefully for another minute or so. Today, however, Claire was hardly enthusiastic about being woken up and rolled over out of bed with a groan, frowning in Lex's direction when she saw him shift in position and go back to sleep.

The perks of being the CEO is that he very rarely had set work hours, and was often the one setting the deadlines, not meeting them. Claire was committed to dragging her feet a bit as she got ready, slipping into a predictable pencil skirt and silk blouse, tying her hair back into a kempt braid.

As she stepped out of the bathroom and started gathering her belongings to head out the door, she saw Lex sitting up and yawning, stretching his arms with a little more of a flourish than was necessary - to make a point, obviously, that he was still in bed and in no rush to change it.

"Remember, we have that event tonight, too," Lex pointed out. "I'll bring your dress. You can change at the office and we'll go straight there."

"Do we really need to go?" Claire asked in exasperation, her shoulders drooping and her voice shifting to a near-whine. "I don't think -"

"You don't think it's necessary, and it is," Lex interrupted.

The event in question was the opening of the new high-rise housing development owned by Wayne Enterprises to serve as a convenient housing solution for employees who were going to be located at the still in-progress Metropolis facility. Claire had no desire to go, and had initially pushed back much more adamantly before realizing that to Lex, there was great utility in the act of being seen simply to make a point.

"We were invited, and for the sake of appearances, we're going," Lex said pointedly. "Because I would never pass up an opportunity to convey my fondest regards to Bruce Wayne. If I missed it, I'd go absolutely... batty."

"Clever," Claire chuckled grudgingly, rolling her eyes as she shifted her bag onto her arm and opened the door to leave the master suite. "I'll see you this afternoon."

Normally, Claire would not have been nearly so petulant about the reports due, or the events they needed to attend. It was simply the way things were. Today, however, was a day that she had not necessarily expected to be so routine and mundane.

A person did not turn thirty years old every day, after all, and Claire had envisioned her thirtieth birthday being a little less work-laden. But that, she decided, was the ugly truth about growing up - special occasions were something you had to make time for, and making time was not always an option.

Lex, however, peered out the window as Claire drove off and placed a call to the front desk secretary, Trixie. It was fortunate that Claire was quick to get ready in the morning - he had big plans for the day, and he couldn't very well follow through on them with her hanging around.

"Morning, Mister Luthor."

"Bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. Very good," Lex said with a grin as the college-aged girl answered within two rings. "We have Claire out of the office until about three o'clock. I'll leave the preparations in your capable hands?"

"It'll be smooth sailing all the way, Mister Luthor."

"Excellent."

* * *

The day was, for the most part, one that passed in a blur of office visits and contract signings with new partners for their pharmaceutical program. Lex Luthor encouraged his high-level leadership to be jacks of all trades, to take on very hands-on roles in their programs, but Claire certainly hadn't expected being the accountant, consulting scientist, and pharmaceutical rep practically rolled into one. So, when the last contract was signed and she was headed back to headquarters with nearly an hour to spare before her deadline, it came as a welcome relief.

Claire was admittedly not entirely unaccustomed to a little bit of special treatment at the LexCorp facilities - she just made sure that worked hard enough and was kind enough to all of the staff to deserve it. She still parked in staff parking, a considerable walk from the building entrance, rather than relying on the valet to get her there.

She was greeted today, however, by Trixie, who happened to be standing in the parking lot apparently looking at her cellphone.

"Waiting for someone?" Claire asked, walking up to the younger woman.

"Oh, no! Uh - bad signal over there," Trixie explained quickly. Claire's brow furrowed briefly in response to Trixie's suddenly erratic, jerky speech as though she was nervous about something. "You wanna start heading over? We could both walk over."

"Okay," Claire said with a questioning laugh. "Sure. Sounds good."

Claire and Trixie walked to the crosswalk and hit the button to wait for the "walk" signal. A glance across the street quickly led Claire to an observation - the lights in the main foyer, visible through the large glass windows, seemed significantly dimmer than usual, almost completely shut off. Trixie followed Claire's gaze and looked suddenly jumpy, clearing her throat and placing a hand on Claire's arm.

"Did you know that shutting off unnecessary light fixtures during peak hours saves us three hundred dollars in monthly operating costs?" Trixie pointed out with more enthusiasm than the situation warranted. Claire gave a slightly confused smile, skeptical of the veracity to the claim, but thought it was sound enough reasoning to let slide.

"I _didn't_ know that, Trixie," Claire said with a nod as they started across the street. "But now I do."

The entire walk across the major street, Claire noticed that Trixie went between craning her neck to look inside, then looking back down at her phone. Something was definitely afoot, but Claire saw no reason to try and piece together what it was. Instead, she walked alongside Trixie - Claire found that walking with people was in some ways a lost art, and though it was perhaps more than a little bit Pollyannaish, she made a practice of doing it whenever she could.

"So, how are all of those... reports?" Trixie asked in an anxious, feeble attempt at smalltalk. "I'm sure they're really important. Your work is so important -"

"Everyone's work is important," Claire said with sincerity that seemed to snap Trixie out of the strange funk she had been in for a few minutes. It was funny, Claire, how sincerity had such an odd effect on people. "LexCorp is a well-oiled machine, and I'm lucky to be part of it. I haven't been part of things a whole lot in my life," she shrugged honestly.

"Right," Trixie laughed with a roll of her eyes. "I can't see you being a loner, Miss B."

"You'd be surprised," she said with a dry chuckle as they made their way to the front door. Claire scurried forward just a little faster than Trixie so she could hold open the door for the younger girl, who seemed a bit thrown off by the action. She reached out for the door handle and stood there holding it open as well.

"You head on in first, Miss B," Trixie said, gently pulling the door until Claire released the handle. "I have to, uh. Tie my shoe."

Claire thought it best not to point out that Trixie was wearing ballet flats with no laces and humored the girl, slowly starting to feel as though she knew what was going on as she walked into the main foyer of LexCorp Headquarters. the door had closed behind her and she had just walked through the front lobby, which was uncharacteristically empty, and around the corner to the basketball court when suddenly, the lights went up and Claire was immediately startled by the sound of party poppers and the joined voices of a large group yelling, "Surprise!"

Though admittedly a bit overwhelmed by the sudden onslaught of birthday greetings and hugs and handshakes, Claire would not deny that she was incredibly thankful - touched, maybe - that so many people had remembered her birthday and actually done something for her. She'd never had a surprise party and had from time to time wondered what it was like. In between greetings, she paused and laughed, placing a hand on her hip and cocking her head to one side and she placed her bag down on the floor next to her.

"Does Mister Luthor know that you're all slacking on the job for lil' ol' me?" Claire asked half-jokingly, though glancing around to see if she could spot him in the crowd anywhere.

"It was his idea, Miss B," Rick from Payroll spoke up as he made his way to the front of the crowd - Claire had a special sort of camaraderie with the man after a pickup game of basketball with his son at a recent company picnic, and he had an almost fatherly attitude towards her ever since. "he wanted to be out here when you got here, but his conference call ran long. I think he's in the board room right now."

"Well, thank you - all of you," Claire said with a surprised smile, admittedly a little taken aback by the fact that Lex had orchestrated all of this. He didn't necessarily seem the birthday type. She laughed a little to herself before leaning over and picking up her bag from the ground. "I should probably track him down and hand him the reports he had be running around town all day for so I can drag him down here and we can get this party started, yeah?"

And she started for the elevator, Claire realized that she felt extremely lucky to belong somewhere - and that, all other actions aside, Lex had created a company that worked because the people genuinely loved it there. LexCorp was more than just a company. It was a culture. It was a community.

She made a mental note to pitch that one to Lex sometime in the future.

For now, however, she tucked it away in the pile of many 'things to talk about later' and made her way up to the seventh floor where the boardroom was located. The elevator opened directly to a short foyer, leading to a pair of heavy cherry-wood doors. Claire found that the door was unlocked and gently pushed it open to find Lex, standing across the room and seemingly staring out the large bay windows of the conference room. However, he seemed to not even notice the sound of the door opening, and Claire glanced an envelope on the table behind him. Taking advantage of the fact that he was distracted, and deducing that the letter was what was distracting him because there was nothing else in the room, Claire slowly moved over. She'd gotten about halfway across the room before Lex noticed, quickly turning around and scrambling the pick up the envelope from the table.

"You're here," he said with clearly forced enthusiasm in his voice. "You should be downstairs enjoying the fest-"

"What is it?" Claire interrupted, walking over and gently closing her hand on the other end of the envelope before he could pull it away. "What is this, Lex?"

"It's nothing."

But despite his hesitation, a brief flick of Claire wrist as she held the envelope managed to tug the envelop free. She opened the top flap and pulled out the single item inside - a playing card. A joker. Upon closure scrutiny, she noticed that the otherwise jovial drawing of the jester was defaced to have a grotesque grin. Over the front of the card, in red ink, a message was scrawled: Get your own nemesis.

Claire looked at the other side of the envelope and saw it had been mailed in with no return addressed, but with a postmark from a post office in Gotham City.

Gotham City. A _joker_. Because one did not spend any amount of time in Gotham City and _not_ come to understand, Claire quickly managed to piece together the same conclusion as Lex clearly had, judging by his quavering hands and stern expression. There was a flicker of outrage in Claire at the fact that he intended to keep this from her, but it was quickly outweighed by the fact that Lex was significantly perturbed. Claire let out a heaving sigh and placed the card and envelope back on the table behind her, placing herself between Lex and the mere sight of it.

"You need to call the -"

"The police? Think, Claire." Lex said shortly, his eyes clenched shut and his face contorted into a frown while he raised one hand to rub his temple. "When have the police ever been good for anything in a place like Gotham City?"

Lex, however, opened his eyes and saw that his sudden retort had earned a reaction from Claire - her expression hardened and her jaw clenched in annoyance as she crossed her arms over her chest. Lex inhaled and exhaled through his nostrils before reaching out and placing his hands on Claire's shoulders.

"It's not you," Lex said gently, leaning his face close to hers. "You don't -"

"I don't understand?" Claire said, pulling away slightly and still frowning. "For someone who calls me clever so often, you assume that a lot. I know who that card is from, Lex. And I know you're terrified."

Lex removed his hands from her shoulders at this, even if it was true. It took him by surprise when he realized that he didn't need to even tell her anymore - she looked at him and she knew. He could tell she knew that he could practically still hear the shrill, grotesque laughter that rang through the walls in Arkham Asylum at night, that suddenly he was thrown back into that awful place that had taken away his ability to sleep. He had only been able to sleep again around her. He only felt significant and safe again around her.

She knew. Claire Branigan knew very well the power that she had.

"I know I don't cut a very intimidating figure, but whatever this is," Claire said, reaching back for the card and brandishing it only for a few seconds before throwing it aside, "I need you to not hide it from me, because I'm going to be facing it with you, Lex. I'm in this."

There were times when Lex wanted to see Claire as sweet and delicate and innocent - yet there were other instances such as this one, where she was a stalwart source of safety. She was his refuge and his defender. She was not exceptionally strong or fast, she was not indestructible - and yet there was a sense of invincibility that Lex felt from just having her. This was precisely the reason why he had planned today, her birthday, as the perfect opportunity for what he had planned. He pulled her into an embrace, his cheek pressing closely against her hair in a gesture that was uncharacteristically gentle - uncharacteristically intimate. He felt her relax in his arms, her arms wrapping around him and her head resting in the crook of his neck.

"Happy birthday, Claire," he murmured coolly, his voice slightly muffled by her dark locks. "...I love you."

He felt her tense slightly again - he had almost expected it to be a bit of a shock to her. Perhaps, Lex mused inwardly, that had played a part in why he had wanted to tell her at all. He'd wanted to shock her by beating her to the punch - because regardless of everything, there was still truth to the statement that there was something beautiful about her when she was in a small amount of chaos. When she didn't immediately respond, however, he began to feel a sinking feeling, gently pulling away from her.

"Don't tell me that today," she said shakily, looking slightly pale as she regarded Lex with an expression that looked strangely like fear. "Don't say it because - because it's my birthday and it's supposed to be some kind of present or something -"

"Claire," Lex interrupted, chuckling and raising his eyebrows in an almost patronizing fashion. "My decision to say it in so many words today? Definitely a present. But you see, it's not a very good one."

And Lex knew he had one when Claire's expression shifted from one of apprehension to one of confusion, because confusion meant that she was open to his reasoning and expected him to explain.

"It's unreasonable, really, the way people place so much weight on when a person says something so frivolous. _I love you._ Because the moment you say the words to someone isn't even the moment you start loving them. That comes long, long before," Lex shrugged nonchalantly, placing his hands on his hips and taking a few steps past Claire, back around the boardroom table so that she had to turn around in order to keep her eyes on him. "And the fact of the matter is, for a good while now, I know you've loved me. And you've known I love you," he shrugged, clearly not caring if the statement came off as oversure or presumptuous. "The words are the present. Not the feeling."

For a short while, Claire shook her head, speechless in disbelief. Then finally, she looked upward and let out an incredulous laugh, shaking her head. "Of course. I should've expected as much. That," she began, crossing her arms over herself and taking a few steps closer to Lex, "was both the most cynical... and the most romantic thing I've ever heard."

"And by extension, I believe I may be both the most cynical and the most romantic person you've ever met," Lex shrugged with a smirk. Claire rolled her eyes briefly, then reached up to, out of habit, straighten out the collar of Lex's shirt before gently gripping it and leaning up on her tiptoes to press her lips to his.

"I love you too," she muttered with a lopsided grin as she pulled away.

"I know. That's what I just told you - you need to keep up."

And Claire laughed - genuinely laughed - because while this was not the romantic moment she might have envisioned if ever she'd dreamed about what it would be like to have someone profess their love, this was also a very different life than the one she thought she'd be living. Catching sight of the fact that she'd momentarily disappeared into her thoughts, Lex took the opportunity to snake his arms around her waist and back her up against the boardroom table. "And the night is still young," he said in a slightly breathy voice. "I believe there's an entire company waiting for you out there - and we still have a gala to attend."

"Still?" Claire groaned, slumping tiredly against Lex's chest as though perhaps playing dead would buy her an excuse for their absence. Quickly shifting to another tactic to attempt an out, she looked up and smirked. "You don't think we could... _maybe_..."

"We could _maybe_ ," Lex chuckled wolfishly, resting his hands on her waist, "after the gala. The limo is going to be here to pick us up in an hour."

Claire decided it was not the best time to express her opinion that perhaps a limo was little bit excessive. Instead, she followed Lex out to where the rest of the LexCorp staff was still waiting downstairs with a birthday cake and champagne on the decorated basketball court. Truth be told, Claire would have much rather stayed the entire night there with the employees of the company she too had come to love, rather than the Wayne Towers Gala. However, only because it was of the utmost important to Lex, by the time the limousine rolled around after an hour, Claire was changed out of her work clothes into another slinky black number, her hair twisted into a low-key updo at the base of her neck.

"I'm going to need more of this," Claire admitted, helping herself to a glass of champagne from the bottle that had already been chilling in the limo. "The last thing I want to be doing on my birthday is rub elbows with Bruce Wayne. Especially after our last conversation."

"You meant the one where he threatened to blackmail you again if you didn't listen to him grouse at you. I remember," Lex said shortly, helping himself as well. He'd taken care to stock the limo with Dom Perignon after finding that it was one of the few champagnes that Claire actually enjoyed. And because she enjoyed it, she managed to slow down as she worked her way through a glass of the libation, calming down considerably. "I don't doubt that Bruce Wayne invited a lot of my investors to his little soiree, and we have to make absolutely certain that they aren't dazzled by the ol' Wayne razzmatazz," Lex said with a comic, jazz-fingers-like gesticulation. "And I trust you enough that we can divide and conquer this time, Claire."

"Divide and conquer?"

"Of course," Lex said with a disimssive expression. "We've already blitzed the media about how you are not just arm candy, and that you're a competent addition to LexCorp's senior leadership team. "I trust you'll dazzle them out of their minds."

He reached over and clinked his champagne flute against hers with a grin to signify that he'd be hearing no more arguments on the issue. Claire rolled her eyes, but grudgingly chuckled a bit to herself, shaking her head.

Claire was immediately caught off guard when they pulled up into the valet line for Wayne Towers, realizing that this was quite nearly a red carpet affair, with cameras and news crews pointing and flashing all around them.

"You don't need to speak to anyone you don't want to. You don't need to look at them," Lex pointed out with a gesture of his index finger. "The real bottom feeders will come up with a story whether we give it to them or not and the rest will most likely be focused on some new-money supermodel who actually wants their attention."

These were insights, however, that Claire earned little to no comfort from.

When they pulled up to the front of the venue, Claire already knew the drill - for appearances sake, she always waited for Lex to come around and open the door for her. He would offer his arm, and they would commence the face-numbing smiling and waving that would run the entirety of the evening. Today, however, after he helped her out of the limousine, he instead continued holding her hand, intertwining his fingers with hers. Claire had enough poise to hide her surprise, but felt it nonetheless. As they finally walked into the venue We won'- the downstairs lobby of the new high-rise luxury residential tower - he turned to look at her, nodding in the direction of a few separate groups of people.

"Those Joe Schmoes over there," Lex murmured as he directed Claire over to a group of men by the drinks table, "are from our architectural firm. Do you think you can handle chatting them up?"

Claire, however, had been momentarily distracted when she saw Bruce Wayne roaming the room and mingling - she fought back a wave of anger that felt a little bit like nausea, and while Lex could not say he felt much different, it was now he who reached out for her hand, gently squeezing it to regain her attention.

"We won't take long," he assured. "It's just business."

"I know."

"I love you."

Claire managed a lopsided grin before Lex leaned over and planted a kiss on her lips. He pulled back and made a subtle gesture at the drinks table. "Work your magic. I leave them in your capable hands."

And again, Claire Branigan knew the drill. Hello, gentlemen! It's great seeing you again! Business is booming! Admittedly, and Claire knew Lex knew it as well, a bit of feminine grace added a little something to the conversation, but by this point, all of LexCorp's business associates knew that behind the charm, Claire was a woman not to be messed with, one who had become savvy and strong on the streets of the south side. So, by the end of their talk, it appeared that there was litle to be concerned about - this was a contract that LexCorp would not be losing to Wayne Enterprises.

Claire had never imagined that parties like this would be so terribly political, and admittedly, it took a lot of the sparkle and allure off of its surface. But the grousing, angry teenager inside of her couldn't help but feel a small sense of victory - as a girl who had spent so much of her life wondering how the other half lived, there was validation in the fact that in very different ways, life sucked for the other half too.

A small gust of a breeze signaled that a door had been opened nearby, and when Claire looked over towards the source of the refreshing cold air, she realized that Lex, drink in hand, was accompanying a group of other men - men who Claire recognized as politicians of the more smarmy sort - out onto the veranda while making small talk. While this too was a necessary evil, Claire rolled her eyes a little as she realized they were going to be here a while.

"Claire?"

Claire jumped slightly at the sound of a familiar voice, and felt a new emotion wash over her at the sight of Dr. Leslie Thompkins.

Shame.

"Doctor Thompkins," she said with a guilty, forced smile. "I -"

"You don't need to dance around it with me. I know why you left," the older woman said with a firm but kind smile, reaching out to squeeze Claire's forearm. "What happened to you wasn't right. And I'm happy to see you happy... even if I'm not sure I understand it."

"I _am_ happy," Claire affirmed with a relieved smile. "I know it's not where I thought I'd be but -"

"- you're doing a wonderful thing," Dr. Thompkins nodded. "The new location in Metropolis will be happy to do business with you."

"Are you serious?" Claire asked in shock, her eyes widening almost comically so that Dr. Thompkins couldn't help but chuckle a bit - the younger woman's enthusiasm was something that one came to miss. "This is amazing, Doctor. Thank you so much..."

And it would mean something to Lex as well, having one of Bruce Wayne's companies relying on LexCorp for a much needed service. The Affordable Pharmaceutical Initiative was one of LexCorp's new media staples and somehow one of its biggest draws of funding and partnerships from erstwhile untapped sources.

"Of course. It's a brilliant idea, and I know it means the world to you," Dr. Thompkins said sincerely. "I know how much it hurt you that there was only so much we could offer anyone at the clinic - and I'm so very proud of you."

This, Claire realized, was what having a mother was supposed to feel like. When you did something right, mothers were proud of you. They filled you with warmth and encouragement and motivation to move forward. And in this moment, Claire realized how very much she still missed working with Doctor Thompkins.

"Claire," she began again, interrupting the younger woman's thoughts. "I also approached you tonight because I may need your help. Just once - for the sake of a very important patient."

"Very important patient?" Claire repeated, her face scrunched in incredulity. "I - I'm not sure how much help I can be, but just tell me when -"

"Right now," Dr. Thompkins said, again squeezing Claire's arm. "It's a lot to ask, but this is extremely important. Could you sneak away upstairs for a moment?"

Claire hesitated, glancing back over her shoulder at the veranda, where it appeared that Lex wasn't going to be finished making small talk with the local senators anytime soon. She sighed a little bit before nodding back in Dr. Thompkins' direction. The pair, as discreetly as they could be, left the main foyer and made their way to the elevators which they took all the way up to the top floor - presumably a penthouse suite.

When Dr. Thompkins said very important patient, Claire realized, she certainly wasn't kidding around. The fact remained, however, that Claire didn't know what kind of favor she was being asked to provide, and it dawned on her that though Dr. Thompkins was a person she trusted, the fact that she so needed to be needed might one day get her into much bigger trouble than she realized.

The elevator doors opened, however, and in addition to confirming that this was indeed the penthouse suite, it also confirmed something else - this was a very full penthouse suite, and it was full of faces Claire was not necessarily happy to see. And across the room, situated on a daybed by the large window, was a figure Claire had never seen in person before - never up close - but immediately recognized.

"I..." she stammered, clearing her throat and looking back at Doctor Thompkins, avoiding the weight of the stares in the room that were now on her. "I'm sorry. I can't do this."


	33. Chapter 33

_"I'm sorry. I can't do this."_

"Claire, please - just listen to me," Dr. Thompkins said, holding Claire's forearm when she started to turn back towards the elevator. "I know this is highly out-of-line -"

"Out of line? We passed out of line a couple miles back, Doc. _That_ ," Claire said in a faux-whisper, her eyebrows raised as she glanced across the room, "is _Superman_."

Clark Kent was situated on a bed that had been moved over to be near the window - the best place for sunlight during the day - and still looked strangely pale and weak. He was recognizable nonetheless. By his bedside was Lois Lane. Of course, Claire thought to herself. Where else would she be? For once, however, Lois Lane was quiet, allowing the doctor to speak to Claire instead. Lois knew, after all, that she and Claire were not on the best of terms, and she was certainly not the person to do any convincing.

"Claire, this is important," Dr. Thompkins said, still gently squeezing her former protegee's arm. "Bruce asked me to help him recover - but there are things that I can't do alone."

"Yeah, I figure they don't cover super-beings from other planets in Earthling med school," Claire muttered, tongue-in-cheek. "I wish I could help you -"

"You're the only one who can," Dr. Thompkins corrected. "There's no one else who can be trusted with this secret."

"What makes you think I can be trusted?" Claire retorted, though the wavering in her fury betrayed the fact that they had tapped into her greatest weakness - Claire Branigan was as strong-willed as they came but was the worst of suckers for being needed. "Doctor Thompkins, I - I am in love with the person who wants Superman dead more than anything on this Earth and you want to trust me? This is insane."

The confession that she was in fact in love with Lex Luthor sent a collective shudder through the room that she couldn't help but pick up on - it confirmed what most of them had already suspected. Dr. Thompkins, however, was not to be swayed and did not let up her grasp on Claire's arm.

"You're too good of a person. You don't want anyone harmed who doesn't need to be - you promised that when you became a nurse, didn't you?" Dr. Thompkins asked, gently pivoting and coaxing Claire a few steps closer to where Clark and Lois were situated. "He has a wound that is somehow contaminated with Kryptonite. Possibly debris from the end of the battle with that creature that almost destroyed Gotham City," Dr. Thompkins explained, though it was clear from her expression that even she was not sure. "And until it's debrided, the wound isn't going to heal - he isn't going to recover. But these old hands and eyes aren't what they used to be. So I had to call in the best wound care nurse I've ever met," she said with a knowing smile.

At this, Claire couldn't help the sensation of swelling with pride. She'd seen her share of interesting wounds in her time working at the prison, and had in fact gotten quite good at taking care of them - Lex had been on the receiving end of those skills many times before in Metropolis State Penitentiary. The fact remained, however, that this too was playing on her weaknesses. This too was her losing control of the situation when she finally felt some semblance of control again.

"If I came to any of you and said that the man I loved needed help - that I needed you to save him," Claire said shakily, letting her eyes shut briefly before opening them again and glancing around the room. "Would you help me? Without any hesitations"

There was a brief silence. Dr. Thompkins couldn't speak to what her choice would be, and most definitely could not say that she wouldn't hesitate, knowing who the man Claire loved happened to be. Lois most definitely could not say that she would not have major misgivings about saving the life of Lex Luthor. One voice, hoarse and tired, spoke up - one which Claire heard for the first time, and one which left her dumbfounded.

"I would."

Clark managed the hoarse confession, turning his head to look over at Claire, who seemed hesitant to believe it but ultimately found that for whatever she reason, she did. She swallowed gently, making eye contact with Clark, and slowly nodded once - almost imperceptibly, but a clear gesture of acquiescence. Lois let out a choked sound and finally got to her feet, walking over and without warning, embracing Claire tightly.

"You're a good person, Claire," she said simply. "You're so much better than everything that's been happening to you -"

"L-let's... let's get this show on the road, yeah?" Claire said, gently clearing her throat and taking a step back from Lois - while she did in fact feel and appreciate the warmth from the woman, it was still unnatural. This still felt like being forced out of her element. Lois Lane was not a _friend_. She turned back to look at Dr. Thompkins. "We're gonna have make this fast before someone starts missing me downstairs."

And so, it became clear that even if she was playing both sides, it was clear that her loyalties would always lean in one direction. They knew that Claire Branigan would do right by her conscience, but also by the man she loved. Dr. Thompkins walked over to her large bag that was situated near the foot of the bed and pulled out sealed packs of wound care supplies she had clearly brought in from the clinic, laying them out on a nearby table.

"All we've got are the basics," Dr. Thompkins explained. "But I've seen you do more with much less, Claire."

"Yeah. No pressure," she said with a nervous laugh, clearly still in shock at herself for what she was doing. But in a strange way, this too was proof that everything that was happening with with her and Lex was real. Doing this meant that she wasn't a pawn. Doing this meant that she was a free woman with agency and chose to be exactly where she was. She first used the shears to remove the gauze bandages covering the wound on Clark's chest, and she saw Lois Lane's face pale. It was only in this moment that Claire realized they were not so different - they were two women with their own lives and ambitions who loved two when who simply were who they were. What they were.

"Thank you for this," Clark muttered hoarsely, forcing Claire to pause and blink in surprise. "I know -"

"Don't thank me just yet," Claire said with a weak but genuine grin, tilting her head gently to one side before moving back to the table and opening a package of sterile gloves that were extra long, up to her elbows. Dr. Thompkins walked over and taped the edges of the gloves with bandage tape so they stayed out of the way. "I doubt this is gonna tickle."

Claire had to pause and take a deep breath, picking up the scalpel tool that Dr. Thompkins provided and leaning over to take a close look at the wound. She saw the areas where it looked like the flesh was almost refusing to heal - as though it were still dying. This, she realized, must have been the contaminated tissue.

The tissue tainted with traces of Kryptonite, Claire realized, would still be affected by it. It would still be weak and could still be malleable, could still be treated the same way she would treat a human wound. Seeing this semblance of humanity in a figure she had known only through news stories and through tales spun into her head by Lex Luthor seemed to give her confidence again, to bring her back to a place a person she had been many months ago. This was a job and it was one she was good at. This was a patient just like any other. This was what she had loved before too many people were fighting their way into her head.

"Alright," Claire said, inhaling deeply and steadying herself to do what might very well have been the most important wound care of her entire life. "Let's do this."

She was almost frightened by the fact that a small, flimsy blade actually did something to Superman - scraped off the contaminated, dying tissue in the crevice of the wound with such ease. Within a about half an hour of cleaning and sloughing off deeper tissue, the job appeared to be done. Claire had swapped gloves and wrapped the wound on the front of his chest - only the front, as thankfully the exit wound appeared healed - before packing all of the used supplies away into a garbage can.

"We'll... we'll just need to wait and see now," Lois spoke up, still looking slightly ill. "Dr. Thompkins is going to monitor him for a while, watch him stabilize before we fly his mother out to see him."

"His mother?" Claire asked, blinking slowly and making eye contact with Lois while she re-adjusted her hair that was now slightly shoved out of place. Lois nodded.

"No one knows he's alive yet, so her being here would probably raise too many eyebrows," Lois explained. "We just need to get him stable and then we'll figure things out."

Only time would tell now, Claire realized, if she had been able to make any impact at all. It wouldn't be until the next day, at least, that any of those questions could be answered, and by then she would be far away from Wayne Towers. She cleared her throat and forced a smile, meaning to walk away but pausing and taking a breath. "Does Mister Wayne known that I'm up here?" she asked carefully without looking at anyone else in the room - and she took everyone's silence as an affirmation. She gave a choked, slightly sardonic laugh as she shook her head. "Tell him that I didn't do this because it's what he wanted. I only did it because it was the right thing to do."

Without looking back, Claire strode off again towards the elevator with great determination to simply get out of this place - out of this situation. She heard the sound of shoes click-clacking behind her and found that before she could reach the elevator doors, Lois stopped Claire and again locked eyes with her.

"Thank you," Lois said again, reaching out and squeezing Claire's hand. "I can't say it enough, Claire. And I'm sorry about -"

"About the lady friend story?" Claire asked with a knowing smirk. "All in the past. It's over and done now -"

"No, you don't understand," Lois said, clearly now feeling forced to swallow her pride. "That wasn't how it was supposed to go at all. I never agreed to have my name put to anything like that about you. I would never -"

"Like I said," Claire interrupted, though her voice was now calm rather than the acerbic tone she'd taken on moments ago, "it's over and done now. It doesn't matter."

"I will never understand," Lois said with a disbelieving laugh, "how someone as good as you is in love with someone like Lex Luthor."

Claire momentarily bristled, reflexively feeling offended - but realized quickly that she and Lois Lane saw the world through very different lenses - all because of love. And there was something freeing about finally being able to say, even with hesitation and a little bit of fear, that love was what it was. "There's nothing to understand. We love who we love - and I know he's hurt you. All of you," Claire said honestly. "But I want you to make sure that Mister Wayne gets the memo that nothing's going to hurt him without going through me first."

"Duly noted."

Claire flinched and turned around, realizing that these elevator doors must have been insanely quiet as now, Bruce Wayne was standing in the open elevator, glancing at Claire. The scrutinizing expression on his face confirmed that he'd in fact heard everything. "We'll do everything we can to keep you out of the crosshairs, Claire."

"And I'll keep throwing myself right back into them," she said with a defiant smirk. "If you'll excuse me, I think I could use a drink right about now."

"I'll escort you back down, then," Bruce said. Claire's jaw clenched slightly, but knowing that this was the only way back to the lobby level, she inhaled deeply through her nostrils and joined Bruce Wayne in the elevator. Her hands clenched into fists at her sides as the doors closed and the elevator began gliding gracefully downwards.

"Are you trying to get me in the middle of a scandal again, Mister Wayne?" she asked in a constrained voice. "Coming out of the elevator and back to the party with the aging billionaire playboy?"

"Nothing like that," Bruce said, crossing his arms over his chest. "Just making sure you were aware that this was not my idea."

"It doesn't matter whose idea it was," Claire replied flatly, her eyes trained solely on the door in front of them. "I'm still a nurse. I'm still obligated to do the right thing. And also, I don't like people sneaking up on me like that," she added pointedly. "Especially when said people doing the sneaking have already kidnapped me, broken into my apartment, and threatened to blackmail you."

"I didn't threaten you. I actually blackmailed you," Bruce corrected. "And you handled it swimmingly."

"Well, golly gee whiz, Mister Bat," Claire retorted. "That's sure a real nice compliment."

"I wanted to thank you," Bruce continued flatly.

"Don't worry about it."

And at that point, the chiming sound indicated that the elevator had finally reached its destination. The lit doors opened up to the lobby, and Claire immediately walked out of the elevator, away from Bruce Wayne as quickly as possible and back towards the spot where Dr. Thompkins had first run into her. Claire glanced around to confirm and sighed in relief when Lex was still standing outside, speaking with the same group of people, too enthralled in whatever he was saying to have noticed her absence. She took a deep breath and picked up another glass of champagne, realizing that she was still slightly shaking - she had been so steady when she was doing her job, and now that it was done, all of the nerves seemed to have hit in full force.

Claire glanced over to verify where Bruce Wayne was and saw him walking over into the company of the young man he had introduced Claire to before - Barry Allen - and Diana Prince. Again, Claire felt the sense of being surrounded, being watched, only verified by the fact that after a moment, all of their gazes drifted in her direction. Bruce had clearly told them about what she had done. Unabashedly, recognizing her right away, Barry threw discretion to the wind and raised his hand to wave at her - and Claire, caught off guard by the friendliness of the gesture, waved back.

She quickly realized that by doing so, she had pretty much invited the man over, and he started weaving his way through the crowd until he reached her, sticking his hand out for her to shake.

"Listen," he said, inhaling and preparing himself for what Claire already knew was going to be a very long, very quickly spoken statement. "I know things are really weird. And I know what you did just now was really hard. And I just wanted you to know that I think it's really cool - I wish I could do something like that."

"Mister Allen, right?" Claire said with a smirk, tilting her head to one side and rolling her eyes good-naturedly. "I'm fairly certain you can do plenty of things that I can't. It was nothing, Mister -"

"Barry."

"... _Barry_."

Claire harbored no chip on her shoulder when it came to Barry Allen - he had never wronged her and she had no reason to dislike him. In return, even with such limited interaction, Barry seemed to almost latch onto her as a friend - something of which both Claire and Barry admittedly had very few.

Barry opened his mouth and seemed as though he was about to say something else when the sudden motion of an arm slinking around Claire's waist caused her to whirl around, finding herself face to face with Lex. He steadied the champagne glass she was holding, gently pulling away from her so it wouldn't spill, and cocked his head to one side.

"Sorry to have kept you waiting," he smirked before looking up at Barry and raising his eyebrows pointedly. "Thanks a million, Mister Allen. I'll take it from here."

Claire fought the urge to roll her eyes, but Barry did not as he gave a small laugh. "It was good seeing you again, Claire."

"You too," Claire said with a weak wave as he walked off back towards Bruce and Diana. Claire sighed slightly and turned back to look at Lex, tilting her head questioningly to one side.

"Miss me?" he smirked. Claire knew that this was a part of the deal, that Lex was protective over what was his and doubly so when it was a metahuman that he felt was encroaching upon his space. "Tastefully disheveled is a good look on you, Claire, but you hardly look like you've been enjoying yourself."

Claire realized that she was more tousled than she'd been when Lex had left her inside - she'd had her hair tied back and her sleeves rolled up a matter of minutes ago, so the change in her appearance was a bit more pronounced than she'd perhaps surmised. She quickly took a breath to steel her herself and shrugged. "You know I don't like being anywhere he is," Claire said honestly, shifting her gaze furtively to where Bruce Wayne was mingling with other guests. The explanation seemed sufficient for Lex at the time being, and he pulled her closer, tightening the wrap of his arm around her waist as she pointed out sourly and sardonically, "This is exactly the way I wanted to spend my birthday."

"Is it?" Lex asked with an amused smirk. "Because I was about to suggest that we take our leave, but if this is your ideal way of spending an evening -"

"You don't need to tell me twice," Claire said, raising her eyebrows and spinning slightly to grab a hold of Lex's hand, all but tugging him towards the door.

As they made it out the main doors of Wayne Towers and Lex pulled out his phone to call the limousine back to get them, Claire took in a deep gulp of the fresh outside air as though she was thirsty for air. It was beyond relieving to be away from everything that had happened inside of Wayne Towers, and she unconsciously leaned in closer to Lex, who seemed content enough to drape his arm possessively over her.

In Claire's mind, what she'd done - even if she couldn't tell him - was for him. She had done a strategic favor, and simultaneously made it clear that she would always be a barrier between them and Lex Luthor. Then, before she could think better of it, the words from earlier that day slipped from her lips again.

"I love you."

It was a quiet statement, almost inaudible while she leaned into his side as closely as she could - but because it came from Claire, Lex most definitely heard it and made the uncharacteristically affectionate gesture of kissing the side of her head. As the limo pulled up again and he opened the door for her, he realized that what he had said to her in the day had not been entirely true.

Of course he'd known that he loved her for some time before actually saying it - and he had known that she loved him for even longer. Perhaps, Lex admitted, he had pursued her love long before he'd actually loved her because he had a genuine curiosity. It was something he wanted to know what it felt like to receive, and he'd known he was receiving it every time she defied his expectations, every time she stayed.

And saying the words was more than just a token. Saying the words was, in its own way, an act of _heroism_. So when Claire fell asleep in the back of the limousine before Lex could suggest another glass of champagne, he draped his arm over again, letting her head drop onto his shoulder. There'd been enough heroics for one evening. Lex didn't even know the half of it.


	34. Chapter 34

Lois paced back and forth in the spot at the elevator door of the suite where Clark was temporarily set up in Wayne Manor. He'd been recovering - Lois knew that it was thanks very much to Claire that this was possible but had not been able to contact the girl in the days since the gala. But now came the part where things had the potential to go wrong.

Clark had made it very clear that since he had been given the chance to go one living, he didn't want to go on living only as Superman. He wanted his life as Clark Kent back, which meant taking back something that most people considered final - death. And in order to start again while keeping the secret of his identity intact with most, there would need to be concessions.

Perry White was going to be that concession.

Lois looked down at her phone at the confirmatory message that Perry was on his way up to the suite, and she took in a few deep breaths. She glanced over her shoulder to make sure that Clark had gone into the bedroom to wait until the news had been broken with as little shock as possible.

Lois had given Perry the access code to come upstairs, and took a few steadying breaths as she listened to the elevator climbing up the shaft, hearing a distant beeping growing nearer and nearer until finally, the doors of the elevator started to open.

Perry looked none-too-thrilled, despite the luxurious surroundings - it was a weekend, and while he admittedly had a soft spot for his employees, it didn't often extend to making house calls on his few days off.

"I hope you didn't call me over here to see your new bachelorette pad," he said, stepping out of the elevator with his arms crossed over his chest. "Listen, Lo, I'm glad that you're trying to pick up the ball and start running again but-"

"This isn't - it's not my bachelorette pad, Perry, this is something important," Lois said, gently shutting her eyes and shaking her head. "But I just - I just need you to promise -"

"Lois," Perry interrupted shortly. "I don't have all day."

"I just need you to promise to understand," Lois said, holding her hands up placatingly. "I need you to understand that... that strange things happen in Metropolis, and... and..."

Perry stared at Lois with scrutiny, knowing that Lois Lane was not the type to stammer or to waver. He cocked his head to one side and shook his head in suspicion.

"Are you in some kind of trouble, Lane?"

"No, no, nothing like that!" Lois said with a slight laugh that surprised Perry, causing his brows to knit in confusion. "Listen, Perry, I know this is completely out of line to ask of a journalist, but... what I'm about to show you, I need to ask that you don't ask any questions, okay?"

Perry gave an exasperated sigh, gesturing widely with his arms in resignation. "Any day now, Lois."

Lois looked back over her shoulder and cleared her throat. "I think you can come out."

"You've gotta be shitting me..."

Perry couldn't help but release this and an additional string of expletives when the bedroom door opened and out walked Clark Kent - he looked pale, much thinner, scruffy with longer hair, but still the bespectacled mild-mannered nerd that Perry White couldn't help but recognize.

"Please don't ask," Lois repeated as Clark, barefoot and clad in pajamas but, unbeknownst to Perry, doing much better than he'd been before first coming to the suite, thanks to having his injuries properly treated. Perry scratched the back of his neck and let out a mild groan - he was getting way too old for this. He'd had a feeling for a good while that there was more to Clark Kent than face value, but had long since gotten past the inclination to ask.

Asking meant answers, and answers, especially those coming from Miss Lois Lane, only made everything more complicated.

"Perry, I have to ask you... a huge favor," Clark said as he approached carefully, looping an arm around Lois' waist but keeping his gaze trained on the head honcho of the Daily Planet. "I just want to start my life again. Live it normally," Clark said, shaking his head plaintively. "I know this is... a lot," he continued with a bashful chuckle. "But I'm just asking -"

"You," Perry interrupted, sounding strangely harsh as he jabbed his index finger in the air in Clark's direction. Lois and Clark both winced slightly prepared for this the be a poor reaction - coming from Perry White, it certainly would not be the first time. However, when they opened their eyes, they found Perry's expression much softer than expected - almost smirking as he continued, "have a lot to catch up on, Kent. I'm putting you back on local interests pieces."

"You mean -?"

"I mean," Perry said, reaching out at clapping Clark on the shoulder, "that I'm glad you're up from the grave, Lazarus, but it don't mean I'm about to let you slack on deadlines again."

And for perhaps the first time in recent memory, Perry grinned - not ironically or sardonically, but in a show of genuine gladness that he was seeing Clark Kent again. He'd felt the loss, even if he hadn't shown it. Print journalism was a dying art in his mind, and clumsy and forgetful as he was, Clark Kent was a brother-in-arms in preserving it.

"Monday. Eight o'clock sharp, lovebirds," Perry said, taking a few backwards steps towards the elevator and pointing back and forth between Clark and Lois. "If you're late, you're both fired."

And without any more theatrics or pretense, Perry White had left the building. Once he was gone, Lois let out a heavy sigh of relief and threw her arms around Clark's neck, hugging him tightly as the truth set in: they were slowly but surely piecing their normal life back together. Though Clark's body was still aching and weak, he managed to hug Lois back, planting a kiss on the side of her head.

"We need to call Martha - let her know it's safe to come to Metropolis," Lois said, pulling back and smiling brightly. "I've been trying to get your mother out here for so long, Clark, I promise - I didn't want her alone in Smallville all that time."

"Ma's a big fan of home," Clark said with a charming, lopsided grin, taking off the glasses that he didn't need now that Perry was no longer around. "I'm just ready to get back to work. Start saving up."

"Saving up?"

"Well," Clark said with a grin, taking hold of Lois' hand which still bore the engagement ring he'd sent to his mother, raising it to his lips and brushing a kiss on the back of her knuckles. "We do have a wedding to plan, don't we?"

And suddenly, Lois Lane was not only smiling - she was practically glowing as she threw her arms around Clark again, holding him tightly as though worried if she didn't, this might not all turn out to be real.

"I'll take that as a yes?" Clark chuckled throatily.

"Impeccable deduction, Mister Kent."

* * *

_**Late That Evening, Luthor Mansion** _

* * *

When Claire stirred in her sleep and shifted to find unoccupied space in the bed next to her, she was not nearly as distraught as Lex often was if he woken under the same circumstances. She understood that being content - being happy - did not make everything else go away. There were nights were sleep simply did not come easy, if it came at all, and this was simply a part of who he was.

He was likely thinking. Claire rubbed her eyes gently and got out of bed, grimacing softly when her feet touched the cool wood floor. That was certainly enough to wake you up. She yawned as, clad in only a large Metropolis Polytech t-shirt and her underwear, she walked out of the suite and downstairs.

The place she first thought to check was the study - because if she found Lex spending his sleepless hours there, it was more often than not destined to be a long night. The study, however, was empty. He wasn't in the receiving room or the kitchen. Frowning slightly, Claire decided to check in one more place before checking if he'd gone somewhere, in which case she'd need to get dressed and find him.

It was like Lex to stay awake, but it was not like him to wander.

She went down the downstairs hallway to the concealed door and opened the hidden control panel, punching in the code he'd divulged to her to keep in confidence. She pushed open the door to find, to her relief, that Lex was standing over a work table under a single dim light, poring over a set of plans on rolls of paper.

This was how Claire was able to tell that it was something of the utmost importance - learning his lesson from past breeches in his security, he'd gotten into the habit of keeping his most significant secrets as hard copies. Claire cleared her throat to gently alert him to her presence, and he spared her only a short moment attention, making a come hither gesture before turning back to his work.

"What are you working on?" Claire asked quietly, crossing her arms over herself and admittedly feeling a little cold in the unheated underbelly of Luthor Mansion. For a few seconds, Lex did not respond, still drawing away at the plans in front of him.

"This is... my latest project," he said as he put the pen aside, tapping his index finger on the blueprint proudly. "The World Transmitter."

"World... Transmitter?"

"Once I've worked my magic on it, it'll be capable of hijacking every satellite in Earth's orbit. Transmitting anything I want. Anywhere I want," he said, an ambitious glint in his eye. "But alas, so far, its capacity is pretty limited."

"You don't think maybe it should stay that way?" Claire asked hesitantly, already envisioning the possibilities that came with hijacking every broadcasting system in the world. Still, compared to other personal pet projects Lex had taken on, this one appeared relatively benign. Seeing the acquiescence in her expression as he glance of his shoulder, Lex chuckled.

"I've only got the ability to to anywhere in the United States east of the Mississippi," Lex finished smugly, turning and crossing his arms, leaning back against the table. "I find that these extra side projects are a fantastic way of occupying my time. Keeps me from getting too consumed by work. Keeps me young."

"Other people build model airplanes. Learn magic tricks," Claire said with a wise little grin, tilting her head to one side. "But why am I not surprised that as always, you need to go over the top?"

"I need to _outperform_ ," Lex corrected, raising his eyebrows severely. This, after all, was serious business - and Claire of all people needed, in Lex's mind, to understand that. "There's a difference."

And as off the wall as it may have seemed, Claire understood. She understood Lex well enough from the months that she'd known him - understood that whatever he had planned, he was going to do and he had to do. It was not her job to stop him or to fix him - only to keep him safe. Only to care for him.

"Come back to bed."

There was a sleepiness to Claire's voice, but behind it, an almost purr-like quality that caused Lex's countenance to shift. He tilted his head to the other side, closing the space between himself and Claire, resting a hand on her waist.

Lex's expression shifted to an impish smirk, which Claire mirrored - and this too was one of the things he quietly, almost secretively loved about her. There were nights he couldn't sleep. There were nights that he knew his mind would not simply be quiet. And she found ways soothing and quieting the buzz of thoughts in his mind, without making him feel as though he were weak for needing her to do so. He knew that's what this was, why she had followed him down here.

"Give me a reason to."

"I'll give you _more_ than one..."


	35. Chapter 35

"The business district is hardly the place for orphans to grow up, Master Bruce. Consider it an act of good will."

Bruce Wayne took advice from Alfred Pennyworth on a great many things, including certain business ventures. This piece of advice in particular stuck with him. They'd been reviewing some of Wayne Enterprises' newest property acquisitions in Gotham and in the process noticed the presence of a building not publicly listed as a business. With some sleuthing, Alfred had unearthed the information that it was an orphanage that had recently been opened and had since taken in placement of a good number of young girls and boys.

There were a great many things that Bruce Wayne had become numb to - but the suffering of children was not yet one of them. So, when Alfred made the proposal that Wayne Enterprises offer to purchase the old brownstone brick building and assist them in moving to a more appropriate location, Bruce immediately put in the call to make an appointment with the purveyor.

And here he was, waiting at the door of the old downtown brownstone after having rung the doorbell twice. Finally, the door opened, but rather than the expected adult, it was a young boy of about ten years who answered the door.

"Hello, sir," the young man said. "Follow me. Granny is expecting you."

Bruce didn't even have the opportunity to speak with the boy at all before he started leading him inside the building, down the entry hallway. The only thing that rang in Bruce's mind was the fact that this for ten years old, this boy was polite. He was too polite.

The young boy walked back to the glass paneled door in the back and knocked before pushing the door open to reveal a chintzy office decorated with copious amounts of fine china and floral print. Seated in a paisley armchair at an old desk was a old women with severe white hair tied into a kempt bun.

"Mister Wayne is here, Granny."

"Thank you, Brady. You may go."

The young man obediently scurried out of the room and shut the door behind him, while the old woman gestured for Bruce to sit down across from her in another matching armchair. "Can I interest you in some tea?"

"No, no, thank you," Bruce said politely, obligingly taking the seat and leaning his forearms onto the desk between himself and the old woman. "Thank you for agreeing to meet with me, miss...?"

"Granny. You can just call me Granny," the woman said with a chuckle, waving her hand dismissively. "And I would never refuse a meeting with someone so integral to the very fabric of the city, Bruce."

She smiled sweetly - too sweetly. Bruce forced himself to smile back but inwardly also wondered how pained his expression must have looked. This woman was strange, he noted, but the children he had glimpsed on his way in seemed peaceful, well-clothed, well-fed, and in good company.

"You're aware that my company had required a bit more space in order to accommodate our expanded operations," Bruce said straightforwardly, seeing no reason to dance around the subject. "And we've noticed that the area outside is hardly a place for kids to run and play... do whatever they do," he said with another forced chuckle. "So I won't beat around the bush. We'd like to offer to buy out your facility. Assist you in finding a more suitable location."

"Mm."

Granny made a noncommittal sound before pausing and taking a sip from her hot cup of tea, her eyes closing thoughtfully but lingering so long that Bruce nearly wondered if she'd fallen asleep.

"And... where would you have us go?"

"Somewhere a little more suitable than downtown. Suburbs. Probably somewhere a little safer, maybe Gotham Estates," Bruce said casually. "I think you'd agree, it's a better place to have a bunch of kids growing up, ma'am -"

"Granny, if you please," she corrected shortly, raising her eyebrows as though she were actually chiding him. She paused to take another sip of her tea before looking back up at Bruce. "I selected this location for particular reasons," she said, gently leaning across the table closer to Bruce, but her gentle demeanor was betrayed by an unexpected, steely resolve to her voice. "And with all due respect, I have no obligation to explain them to you, Bruce. I know what's best for the children."

And with finality, her lips curled into a toothy grin. Bruce knew immediately that the conversation was over.

"Well," he said, regaining his composure despite his initial surprise and getting to his feet, offering his hand for Granny to shake. "It was good meeting with you, anyway."

"Oh, come on now, dear," the old woman said, squeezing Bruce's hand with both of hers as she got to her feet as well. "I'm not uncivilized. I'll show you to the door."

Granny moved around the desk and walked out of the room ahead of Bruce, walking down the hallway and glancing at the children in the rooms as she passed, playing calmly and reading in various spots throughout the old brownstone. She grinned to herself and nodded quietly as she passed before opening the front door.

"I do hope you'll come see us again, Bruce. Maybe stay for a bite to eat next time. You'll see, the children are doing very well right here," she said with a saccharine grin. Bruce again forced a smile, one last time, before wordlessly nodding his goodbye and stepping down the front stoop. Granny only watched him for a few steps before closing the door behind him and murmuring to herself, "Granny Goodness knows what's best for the children..."

It was now confirmed that Granny, as far as Bruce Wayne was concerned, was completely of her rocker. The instant he was out and the door was shut behind him, it was the greatest relief he had felt all day to be able to wipe that ridiculous grin off of his face. While well-intentioned, this had been a complete and utter waste of an evening.

As he got into his car, however, Bruce caught from the corner of his eye a bright streak like a shining star, glowing with a metallic glint and clouded by a dark haze. As his gaze followed it, however, he realized it did not simply streak across the sky - it fell to earth, somewhere near Metropolis Bay.

And in times like these, no object falling inexplicably from the sky could be presumed benign. Getting into his car, he immediately slid open the concealed panel on the center console, revealing a button that glowed red when he pressed it.

"Something urgent, Master Bruce?" Alfred's voice lilted over the sound system as Bruce pulled out of the parking space and began racing in the direction of the fallen object.

"Track my coordinates. Send the team," Bruce ordered sternly. "I've got a bad feeling about this."

* * *

_"So you think it's a ridiculous idea."_

"I didn't say it was ridiculous," Claire said, laughing and shaking her head. "I said it was an idea that I respectfully disgree with."

Lex had a habit now of taking Claire out to the very same spot overlooking Metropolis Bay when he needed to talk through an idea, or process a day at work, or when it appeared she needed to do the same. They would park the white Rolls Royce at the overlook and lean against the hood, staring out at the water. Today in particular, Lex had attempting pitching an idea to respond to Wayne Enterprises' expansion into Metropolis by conversely expanding into Gotham.

Claire respectfully reminded him that their carefully crafted image required them to keep from stooping to petty competition. That wasn't what LexCorp prided itself on being about. Lex agreed, but felt sour at the fact that he was being corrected on the mission of his own company. It was, perhaps, a criticism he took only because it came from Claire.

"I just think we need to focus on what matters," Claire said calmly, leaning back against the hood of the car. "You spread yourself too thin, you lose sight of the things that are most important."

"Indeed..."

The disproportionate introspection in Lex's voice in speaking that single word, Claire turned her head to look at him curiously, catching sight of him fidgeting slightly with his hands as though he were nervous about something. Her brow furrowed, and out of habit, she reached over and placed her hand over his, gently squeezing. Realizing that she had picked up on the nervous energy, however, Lex let out a brief, dismissive laugh before pushing off the hood of the car, pacing peacefully back and forth in front of Claire.

"Five," he said, making an upward pointing gesture with an index finger, "months."

"What?"

"Your attention to detail is slipping, I see," Lex smirked, pausing in his pacing and resting his hands on his hips with an almost chiding expression. "Today marks five months since the agency first sent you to the mansion as my nurse. And in five months," he continued, raising his eyebrows as his voice took on an almost sing-song tone, "you have managed to make a most delightful mess of things."

"My pleasure," Claire said, rolling her eyes gently at Lex's choice of words. "Good to know -"

"Not finished," Lex lilted, reaching over and gently resting his index finger over Claire's lips in a shushing motion. "I'll take comments from the peanut gallery shortly. Now, where was I? Ah, yes."

Lex took a few shuffling, nearly dance-like steps so he could lean on the hood of the car again with one arm, hovering closely over Claire.

"See, I've come to realize that partnership is central to power. True power is not," he said, raising his eyebrows meaningfully, "a solitary venture. That's why my father ultimately... lost in the end."

Lost was perhaps an understatement, but it was the best euphemism that Lex had in his arsenal. Now, after all, was neither the time nor place to discuss just how his father ended up losing.

"He no longer had my mother to compensate for his deficiencies," Lex continued. "Too many flaws. Too many blindspots. But when my father had her, he was the greatest. And Superman, Superman has always had his Lois Lane," Lex recited.

"And you have me," Claire supplied carefully, her gaze growing concerned that this conversation had taken this turn - that Lex's fixation on his father and on Superman had slowly been bubbling back to the surface.

"Mm." Lex said with a vague, thoughtful smile. "Precisely. I have you. And in order to attain and keep the peak of my power, I intend to keep it that way."

And Claire felt her breath catch in her throat as she looked at Lex reaching into his coat pocket for something on his other side, obstructed from her view. Her first instinct was to stop him from asking what she thought he was going to ask - not because she didn't want to hear it, but because she knew that if he did ask, she no longer felt like she would want to refuse. But she knew. She knew that this was happening because he was clinging to allies, in light of the news that Superman was alive, and Bruce Wayne was slowly infiltrating Metropolis. She wanted to offer him some comfort, but she had no way of knowing whether it would be any comfort at all to tell him that he was no longer their primary concern.

Claire foresaw the question, and she wasn't prepared to hear it if it was asked out of strategy and not sincerity.

Before Claire could speak up, however, the sky above them which had already grown darker with the dimming light of sunset, grew briefly bright again as something like a shooting star crossed the sky, drawing closer and closer to where they stood until they realized it was heading right for them with a whirring noise that grew louder and louder.

Instinctively, Claire reached out for Lex's wrist and pulled him down to crouch behind the car, just seconds before the strange object from the sky crashed into the ground, still whirring loudly for a few moments before lulling into a dull buzz.

Lex stood up first and looked over at what had fallen from the sky, and immediately, his eyes widened in an almost hypnotized expression as he recognized the familar object from the footage he had obtained of Dr. Silas Stone. It appeared dented. Damaged. But it was unmistakable. He started walking closer to it, drawn like a moth to a burning fire that meant imminent destruction. He was going to get burned. He didn't care.

"It's found us," Lex said in an almost crazed sounding voice, laced with a weak, high-pitched laugh. "It's here..."

"Lex," Claire said sternly, trying to pull his attention away from the broken Mother Box wedged into the ground in front of them like Excalibur into the stone. "Lex, come back here."

But it was useless - this object that had fallen from the sky, faintly glowing, waxing and waning in strength, had Lex enthralled. This was validation. This was proof that he had been right. And Claire knew what this was, but she could not let on. She could not let on the information she'd learned from Bruce Wayne and kept from Lex about the Mother Box and Superman.

Even if she could not say why, however, she had to stop Lex from falling prey to whatever this was - because if Superman had only barely been able to best it in its quest for a body, a mere mortal obviously in Claire's mind stood no chance. Lex perhaps loved her, but he also loved power, and love of power easily overcame a person. But Claire knew she had to try.

"Lex."

Claire finally launched forward and took a hold of Lex's hand, attempting to pull him back, but just as she managed to get him to pivot where he stood to look at her, the Mother Box seemed to almost explode with thick, black fog. It surrounded them, turning everything to blackness without filling their lungs like smoke. Everything was a deep, inky black, save for the faint, silver glow of the Mother Box a few yards in front of them.

Then, the sound of a voice came among them - around them, between them, surrounding them as though it had no singular source, and for the first time in the encounter, Claire felt Lex's hand tighten around hers. In fear.

" _Bow_ ," the voice boomed ominously, still enveloping them in the black smoke. "before _Darkseid_."


	36. Chapter 36

_"Bow... before Darkseid..."_

"You've come. You're here," Lex said, his voice a strange mix of fear and exhilaration, a choked laugh escaping his lips. "You... answer to me. You answer to me," he said with feigned confidence. "It was me. I called you from the Kryptonian ship, I _summoned_ you-"

"I would have found your planet without your summoning, mortal," the voice of Darkseid boomed around them. "I have come not because of you but because the time of your planet's reckoning is near. This planet has been left in the hands of your kind for centuries, and your abuse of your free will... your attempts to play God when you are only insects... has brought it to the brink of collapse. This soon shall end."

The voice was calm, but growing in volume as the Mother Box began to grow brighter and brighter. It was becoming stronger, and had very quickly dispelled any belief Lex may have possessed that he was in control. He had overestimated his own influence. He'd stood too close to the fire. Claire felt Lex let go of her hand and take a step away from her, toward the Mother Box. Claire did not know everything that Lex had learned from the ship from Krypton - much of it, he had perhaps pushed into the back of his own mind as well, partially convinced that this knowledge he has gained was, like many things, a trick of the mind. But this was real. When Lex had said a bell had been rung, _this_ is what had heard it.

"I am coming," Darkseid's voice continued. "The door is nearly opened."

"Then we can join forces," Lex insisted, his voice still quavering. He knew - this was the great power that he'd heard of on the ship so many months ago, and perhaps the greatest power they would ever have within reach. "I can - I can help you find what you're looking for. I know what you're looking for. The Kryptonian ship held the knowledge that you're looking for. They were as close to finding the Equation as anyone ever has been-"

"You have nothing I want. Not yet. What I require," Darkseid insisted, booming over Lex's voice, "is a host. I require a body to house my power until I have gathered my Hounds and found a new Mother Box here on Earth."

"A host," Lex repeated vaguely.

"I had hoped to use the Kryptonian," Darkseid spoke. "He would have been a most excellent vessel. But once life returned to his body, he refused to be taken over. He escaped from me," Darkseid growled, and Claire, who still remained silent in her own terror, knew immediately that this would seep into Lex's mind like poison, would prey on his need to best Superman.

"And what becomes of the body you choose?" Lex asked. "Once you've taken over it?"

"The body will survive my reckoning," Darkseid said. "I cannot speak for the rest."

There was first silence, and it was evident that Lex's willingness was being tested - was it worth the opportunity to best Superman, to have his body best the man he loathed most, if Lex Luthor no longer existed to experience it? He was hesitating, and his moment of pause was impossible to ignore. His resolve was still not full in submission to this power, even if he could not defeat it. He could run. He could leave the heroics to the heroes.

His hesitation was Claire's only chance, she decided in a heartbeat, to intervene. And there was only one way of doing so and rendering him unwilling to stop her - the one thing that had made Mercy Graves expendable to him. If he believed that she was getting greedy, then maybe - maybe this would work.

She didn't know that it would. She only knew that without intervention, Lex would destroy himself in his pursuit of power. Again, the same old feeling reared its head with a call that Claire was hard pressed to resist. Lex _needed_ her.

"He's afraid," Claire spoke up finally, taking a step forward in the darkness, past Lex and feeling her arm brush against his. She jerked away, and gave a derisive hack of a laugh. "Because he's weak. He doesn't have the will or the strength to house real power."

"Claire."

"He wouldn't have made it this far without me. His mind is too fragile," Claire spoke up with no wavering in her voice - with a strength that made Lex recoil in an emotion that he could not recognize. "He can't handle real power. I can. I want this power." Claire took in a deep gulp of air and steadied herself to bear the greatest semblance confidence as she could. "I'll be your vessel."

"Will you bow before me?"

The question seemed to echo and linger in the air around them, and Claire felt a hand close around hers, trying to pull her backwards. She could not look back at Lex - she yanked her hand out of his reach, dropping to one knee and bowing in front of the Mother Box.

"... _very good._ "

And suddenly, the smoke around them first was sucked back into the Mother Box, revealing their surroundings once again and reminding them they were still in the real world. Lex's hand clasped onto Claire's shoulder, yanking her from her kneeling position and trying to force her to her feet but instead only managing to shove her to the ground, and she looked back at him with her expression blank and steely.

"Claire, what have you -"

But before he could finish his attempts at interrogating her, the Mother Box began to glow and whirr again. Claire immediately leapt to her feet and shoved Lex out of the way - the first time, in their many months of cat-and-mouse, of at times being nothing short of toxic to one another, that she had ever laid hands on him in force. As she turned to face the Mother Box, a long, dark tendril of the black smoke shot out from one of the cracks in the Mother Box's surface and shot directly through Claire's chest before disappearing entirely, leaving only faint whisps of smoke in the air around her.

Claire's body jerked once, but otherwise did not move - Lex looked on in wide-eyed fear and something like revulsion, unsure if it was towards what Claire had said, or what he had just seen happen to her. This was not possible. This was not the way this was meant to happen when the time came. No one was meant to stand between him and his fate, even if that fate was destruction - yet twice now, someone had intervened, intercepted his destruction that he was prepared to accept. The first had been Superman - and now Claire.

The sound of an engine roaring in the distance and drawing nearing, and the sound of turbines roaring seemed to now come from all directions, and Lex from his place on the ground saw as first, a bright red blur appeared next to him, materializing into a man in a bright red suit, who caught sight of Lex and Claire and called out over his shoulder.

"We've got company over here!"

And behind him, Diana Prince in her battle attire and Victor Stone, free of the hood he usually donned, approached. As Victor drew near, however, the Mother Box seemed to sense his arrival and spring to life again, glowing now a different color, a bright white light as it suddenly yanked itself free from the ground, shooting towards him so that he caught it in his hands, looking down at it with a sneer.

"Aw, shit," he growled. "I thought I'd gotten rid of this thing."

"You thought wrong," Diana said, gently raising an eyebrow and staring back at him. "It's yours."

"Guys," Barry interrupted, waving his arms to get everyone's attention. "Either this is a wax museum, or she's gone catatonic."

Their attention was drawn to Claire, still frozen in place and staring directly, emotionlessly at the spot where the Mother Box had lodged itself in the ground. Lex still looked on at the scene - the cluster of metahumans gathered in one place that he'd once hoped to leverage for his own purposes - with a sneer on his face. Rapidly, things were falling apart. The limited sense of balance and safety he'd felt - that Claire had imposed upon him - was fast melting away.

The sound of the engine drawing nearer to the place that had until moments ago simply been his and Claire's safe place in Metropolis signalled the arrival of the vehicle that Lex Luthor least wished to see: the Batmobile. The Bat stepped out from the car, sparing only barely a glance at Lex picking himself up off of the ground before addressing the rest of the group.

"Aquaman?" came the garbled voice under the black cowl.

"He's on his way. Wasn't too keen on the idea of riding on an invisible plane," Barry quipped back, making a jerking motion behind him with his thumb to where they had 'landed' in the aircraft the couldn't even see. "Can't say I blame him."

"What happened to her?" Bruce asked as his eyes landed on the frozen form of Claire Branigan in their midst, then back at Lex Luthor, who stood glaring at all of them like an outnumbered, trapped, doomed animal. His chest heaved with labored breaths as he refused to acknowledge the question. "There's nothing we can do if you don't tell us what happened, Luthor."

"The Mother Box - it's the same one," Victor spoke up. "The same one. Supe said something about Darkseid -"

"We'll take her with us," Diana said, pulling her lasso from its holster at her hip. "Bring her somewhere safe -"

"She's not going with you," Lex snarled. "She doesn't need -"

But Claire's form gave another jerk, and her eyes blinked slowly, closing then opening to reveal bright red orbs instead of her warm green eyes. And suddenly, she rose like a bolt up into the sky, staring down at them without the slightest trace of recognition.

"Your friend is gone," came a voice from her lips that was still Claire's voice, but clearly not her at all. "My true arrival draws near."

And she raised her hands, revealing palms glowing red - in an instant, because of their familiarity with Superman's abilities, they knew to anticipate the beams of burning, disintegrative energy, only to find that it didn't come. Claire's form was knocked from the sky by a sudden surge of water, rising from the bay, ridden by Arthur Curry, wielding a large ornate trident as he rode the surge of bay water onto the land to join the others - Diana spared him a brief glance and a displeased expression that spoke without her opening her mouth, _better late than never._

Claire was only jarred for a brief moment, not even hitting the ground before swooping back up into the sky and shooting off, away into the distance, completely out of sight. And Lex realized that seeing Claire this way - taken over, possessed, filled with power but missing everything about her that he knew - made him quite nearly physically ill.

"Shit," came Victor's baritone voice. "Darkseid. He's gotten a hold of her. That's not the girl you all were tellin' me about anymore."

"But how?" Diana asked, returning her lasso to its holster. "Clark said that it didn't take him because he wasn't willing. She wouldn't be either, unless..."

They turned to look at Lex Luthor, almost as though reaching a collective realization that if Claire had been willing, there could only be one reason - one person who would make such a thing possible.

"Well, superheroes," Lex sneered, placing his hands on his hips and glaring at all of them in turn, almost as though chiding them all like misbehaving children. "Isn't saving people what you're good at? What are you waiting for?"

Diana could not help a look of derision and annoyance from crossing her face - even now, Lex Luthor had no shame. He thought he could order people around, that by simply willing them to be his pawns, they would become such. This, however, was beyond him. This was above him.

Unable to help himself as well, Bruce strode over and grabbed a hold of Lex by his collar, shoving him back against his own car and leaning in ominously. "I wouldn't give orders if I were you, Luthor. We know this is because of you. She sacrificed herself for you -"

"She didn't sacrifice herself - she said it herself. She wanted power," Lex said with a frenzied laugh, and Diana felt her sudden rage at the man subside as she recognized something in his voice - a desperation to believe what he was saying himself. As unlikely as it seemed, she was suddenly faced with the possibility that Lex Luthor loved this young woman, and that what he had just witness happening to her would destroy him if he did not force himself to believe she had somehow deserved it. "She bowed before that thing because she wanted power, she was foolish. She thought that she -"

But Lex could not finish the statement - he gave a forced laugh, glancing around the the people surrounding him. This was impossible. Claire was his beacon. She was good and pure and protecting. He knew that of all the people who would betray him for greed, she would be the last.

"So you're happy to just let her die," Bruce said coldly, letting go of Lex's collar jerkily. "You're going to stand by and let her be destroyed."

"Yes. I am. Because I know that you won't allow it. You're all going to save her," Lex said, raising his eyebrows and reaching up to straighten his own collar - his face flickered into a frown when he realized his hands were shaking, and for the first time in a long time, Claire was not here to steady him. He was surrounded by enemies. He had lost his only ally. "And if you don't, you're all very aware that I am capable of making all of your lives hell. All of you. And I intend to do a very thorough job of it," Lex said with feigned calm, forcing a shrill laugh. In response, however, he found himself suddenly subdued not by Bruce Wayne, but by the lasso that had just moments ago been at Diana's hip.

"You will tell us," Diana said, tightening the loop of the lasso as it wrapped around Lex's shoulders, yanking him away from the car, "why Darkseid has taken possession of the girl."

Lex's expression grew tense, as though he were fighting against some unseen force, and Diana allowed a small smirk to cross her face as she realized that even though he was resisting, the Lasso of Truth was working.

"Darkseid is inhabiting her body until he gathers his followers and finds another Mother Box. He's coming to Earth. He's coming for all of us. Darkseid is coming, and he brings with him... a great reckoning. Man has brought the Earth to the brink of collapse and he is coming to take it from us," Lex recited, though his teeth were gritted as he fought back against the persuasion of the lasso to no avail. The words tumbled from his lips, not sing-song or speaking in riddles, but straightforward and without pretense. "I was going to be the vessel. It was supposed to be my moment. I called him here. Claire stepped in first."

"That's why she was willing," Barry said in a confused voice. "For him? Seriously?"

"Barry," Arthur barked authoritatively, perhaps one of the first times he openly addressed someone in the group - brief glimmers of surprise registered on the rest of their faces as well at the show of concern on Arthur's part for their mission. "Not now."

"I..." Lex spoke again through gritted teeth, fighting back against the compulsion of Diana's lasso, "...don't want to _lose_ her. She's the only ally I have -"

Diana, however, now released Lex from the hold of the lasso, having heard all she needed. She knew her limits - it was against her nature to needlessly exploit the vulnerabilities of others. Lex stumbled, and groped for the car door, throwing himself inside of the driver's side and starting the car, driving away in reverse with a squeal of the tires over the blacktop before he could be assailed by them any more. Now, the so-called heroes were left alone in the aftermath of the arrival of something new to Earth that meant them all harm.

"Back to the Manor," Bruce barked over them. "We need to regroup. And Stone - bring that thing with you," he said, nodding at the clearly damaged Mother Box he still reluctantly held in his hands. "We're going to get to the bottom of this."


	37. Chapter 37

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I usually don't include notes on my AO3 updates, but I just wanted to say a big thank you to marriedtojbiebs for helping me power through writing this chapter and break through a really bad case of writer's block!

Frequently, Lex and Claire would leave the mansion separately and return home from work together - seldom was the situation reversed. So, when the white Rolls Royce Wraith pulled into the driveway, turning violently and leaving a set of dark skid marks on the pristine cement, Lex felt deeply the implications of the fact that he was getting out of the car alone, walking through the door alone, retreating upstairs alone to the room was no longer supposed to be only his.

Lex felt as though his very awareness of the situation were palpable, alive, crawling underneath his skin. His surroundings felt nonsensical, kaleidoscope-like, as though the possession by Darkseid in fact had destroyed Claire, shattered her into a million pieces and scattered her around so that simultaneously both her presence and her absence were ubiquitous. Lex felt his hands shaking violently - part of why his driving back home had been so volatile - and for the first time in many months, there was no one left to reach for them, to unclench his fists and tether him back to reality. There was nothing, and for all he know, there would never be anything again to occupy the space where Claire once stood.

Her unmade side of the bed and her hairbrush on the table, the scent of her soap in the shower since she was the last person who had used it - all of it felt almost as though it were mocking him. Taunting him. He reached out and flung the sheets off of the bed thinking that it would offer some level of relief - he had thought wrong.

The previous night, he'd been unable to sleep again - rather than waking her, Lex had stirred and gotten up to pull the bottle of sleeping pills from the medicine cabinet in the bathroom. Claire, however, seemed to possess some inherent ability to sense his movements and sat up in bed as well.

In the light of the moon streaming in through the large bay windows, she simply gave him a look that asked him to come back to bed. Claire had sat up with him the entire night until he'd managed, at about three in the morning, to somehow doze off. They hadn't even needed to speak through the night. She wordlessly assuaged the sense that his head was buzzing, was too active and too loud to allow him to sleep. It was in these moments that he realized the depth to which she loved him, and to which he loved her.

That was what made this cut the deepest of all.

If he could hate her, this pain would stop. If he could simply believe in what she'd said - that she wanted to be possessed by Darkseid for the sake of power - he could see her as another traitor who was getting what she deserved, another snake in the grass finally being trodden upon and trampled by something bigger in retribution. But he knew better, and this was the awareness that seemed to be clawing at him from inside.

Because damn it if he couldn't still hear her, like there were still echoes of her in that room asking him to shut the door, or to toss her a shirt from the closet, telling him she'd meet him at the office when she left earlier than he did. All of these echoes felt so very real, to the extent that Lex absently patted his hand onto the object in his pocket, the small box he had very nearly pulled out, and wondered if the echoes would answer on Claire's behalf if he asked what he'd intended to ask.

He couldn't think of her right now because if he did, it only cemented his feeling of powerlessness. He couldn't think of the fact that there was a chance that Claire - his Claire, his confidant, his partner - no longer existed. It was even more demoralizing to consider the fact that she had done it for him because if it was a selfless act, the loss was only that much deeper.

He had to believe that Claire had been selfish. He had to believe he was alone. Because if he was alone, Lex knew he could get back to his work. He had to be stronger. He had to be more powerful, and in order to obtain that power, he had to finish his work.

With a look of forced calm on his face, Lex withdrew his phone from his coat pocket and dialed the number of the phone he had provided to Leonard Snart. Now was not the time to dilly-dally.

"Lenny. My favorite business partner," Lex said with an unnecessary flourish that the man on the other line couldn't even have seen upon answering the phone. "I want an update on that shipment we're waiting for. Any chance we could speed it up?

"Currently in transit across the Atlantic as we speak, Mister Luthor."

"Excellent. You'll make a perfect business partner yet," Lex affirmed. "...I do like them efficient."

* * *

"It's a computer," Victor said, sneering at the Mother Box placed on the table in the center of their group. They had gathered in Bruce Wayne's headquarters beneath Wayne Manor to plan their next steps, but found themselves woefully unprepared. They were now met with a force they knew nothing about, a force they weren't even sure they could fight.

"So, like an iPhone," Barry quipped.

"More like the computers at the beginning of a sci-fi movie," Victor said darkly. "You know. The one that everyone's shitting themselves and geeking out over because it's the next big step in technology, and then all of a sudden it goes berserk and tries to kill everyone."

"Oh." Barry said, blinking in surprise. "That kind of computer. Alright. Cool. Good to know -"

"But it didn't want to kill _you_ ," Diana spoke up, gently placing a hand on Vic's shoulder. "It wanted you to live."

"Yeah. It did a real bang up job, too."

Victor clearly was still on the fence about not being allowed to destroy the Mother Box - he still actively questioned why it was inherently positive that the device had forced him to continue his life as a half-machine.

"The Mother Box is the only link we have. It's our only clue," Diana said carefully, knowing of the young man's many apprehensions. "And I think you know, Victor. You're the only person who can get us what we need to fight this evil."

Victor grimaced - the request didn't need to be explicitly made. His jaw clenched tightly while he stared down at the Mother Box. It seemed so much less ominous in his presence, and he knew it was because the device was bound to him.

"You want me to plug into it. Download all it's got on this Darkseid," Victor said knowingly, his voice laced with resignation. "You want me to be your human flashdrive."

"Hey - there's only room for one Flash on this team."

"Barry, not now," Bruce interrupted, one hand raised to his temple. "Not a good time."

"Sorry."

Vic, however, appeared unaffected by Barry's attempts at levity, his gaze still focused solely on the Mother Box as though it was apt to attack him at any time. His face made small, twitching movements as though the thought of coming into contact with the device again made him sick.

"I know this is the last thing you want to do, Victor," Diana said pleadingly. "But we don't have any other options. This enemy is greater than all of us. Our only chance is the knowledge that's in that machine."

"What about your so-called Superman?" Arthur finally spoke up again, his voice dripping with no small amount of disdain as he watched the younger man being goaded into a sense of duty, of purpose. "Isn't he the one you should be calling on to fight this evil?"

"I think he's still in the recovering phase of coming back from the dead," Bruce replied, clearing his throat and prompting Arthur to turn and face with a slightly annoyed glance. "I haven't experienced it myself, but I imagine it's a pretty lengthy process."

"I'll do it," Victor spoke up, grimacing and putting his fist down on the table with a loud thud. "Just don't turn our team meeting into an episode of Real Housewives." He began to reach out to swipe the broken Mother Box from the table but was stopped by Diana catching his forearm, stopping his motions with ease that seemed to catch him off guard.

"Victor," she said in that voice he had come to know and find himself even soothed by. "You are doing a great thing - for us and for all the people of this world. That might not mean anything to you yet, but I suspect it will in time."

The tension in his arm dropped momentarily, and he glanced around at the solemn expressions of the others in the room - his teammates. His new family. They were there, and they were counting on him. There were a great many things he could no longer do or be, and Victor Stone had deeply felt those losses for a long time now. In fact, that sense of loss was the only thing he had been able to feel until now. For the first time since his last time on a football field, since the last time he'd scored a game-winning touchdown, he had an objective, and he had a team that was counting on him.

More calmly, he began reaching for the Mother Box again, firmly taking it in both hands and holding it in front of his own chest. As if hearing his own silent will, the Box seemed to sprout an appendage that plugged directly into the suit of armor encasing Victor's body. Immediately, he seemed to go almost limp, his eyes glowing a bright, icy light in the same color as the Mother Box's glow in his presence.

"I think..." Barry spoke up somewhat sheepishly, raising his eyebrows in surprise, "he's buffering."

There was a wordless but collective rolling of eyes among the rest of the group - no one spoke up while they were closely watching what happened to Victor as he connected with the knowledge contained within the Mother Box, in the event that some of intervention was needed. But for some time, he simply stood still, his eyes still glowing. The vast amount of data contained within the alien technology understandably took time, but as the minutes turned to a full hour, their wariness began to grow. Even Barry had no ability to make any kind of comment to try and assuage the tension, and it was only when the bright, alien light in Victor's eyes faded and revealed his own eyes again that there seemed to be a wave of relief. Victor gave a small, tired groan as he dropped the Mother Box on the table in front of him and slumped into a chair.

"Victor?"

"Gimme a sec," he said in a tired but gentle voice, resting his head in his hands. Diana looked up and gestured for the group to gather around again so he wouldn't need to speak to loudly. Victor gave a tired groan and looked up, shaking his head. "Darkseid is a warlord from the planet Apokolips who has been spending centuries conquering... inferior worlds. He sends emissaries ahead of him and travels by the Mother Boxes once he's been informed that the planet is ready for his arrival."

"So he was already planning on coming to our world," Bruce said, coming forward and leaning on the table near Victor with his arms crossed. "Even before Luthor."

"He has spies already here," Victor continued. "They could be anyone. Anywhere."

"Is there any way to save the girl? Claire?" Diana spoke up, her brow furrowed in concern. "What can we do? Can we stop him?"

"I don't know if we can stop him from coming to Earth. Once a new Mother Box is found, if it's in the hands of one of his people, there's nothing standing in his way," Victor said, shaking his head, pushing the chair back from the table so he could stretch out his long limbs. "But if we want to banish him from this world for now, there might be a chance to save her. Because of this piece of crap, actually," he said matter-of-factly and nodding in the direction of the Mother Box. "Since it's broken, the fusion with Darkseid and her body isn't as strong as it could be. It's gotta be soon, before his hold is too strong. I... I wouldn't get my hopes up," Victor said honestly. "But we can try."

"Clark said that he was able to break free because he wasn't willing to be a host - that he was able to resist through sheer force of will," Diana said thoughtfully. "If we can somehow reach her, make her willing to resist Darkseid long enough for us to act. Maybe..."

"There's only one person who she'd be willing to do it for," Bruce interrupted in a tone that suggested even the mere suggestion left a bitter taste in his mouth. "We're going to need to drag Luthor along for this one."

"It shouldn't be too hard, he looks like he weighs a solid fifty pounds," Barry pointed out, wrinkling his nose slightly. "We could just put him in a suitcase and pull him out when we need him."

"Barry -"

"Diana, the kid's got a point," Bruce interrupted, pinching the bridge of his nose tiredly, unable to believe he was actually saying it. "It may come to a little bit of coercion. I doubt he'll help us willingly."

"Even for her?"

"Even for her," Bruce affirmed. The look on Diana's face, however, was proof that she was not entirely convinced of this. She pursed her lips in thought, shaking her head slightly, but conceded, allowing Bruce to continue speaking. "I'll try and have surveillance running throughout the area, see if we can spot her. Arthur?"

"I have eyes and ears over the coast as well," he affirmed stonily. "But the gulls only naturally travel so far inland. There isn't a great deal more I can offer."

"Anything we have is better than nothing," Bruce affirmed. "And if this turns into a fight, we might need to take it out to sea, minimize the damage to the city. But we have to try to bring her back. We put her in this position. I put her in this position."

Bruce Wayne would be hard pressed to admit it, but he had regained some sense of hope in these recent months - hope for humanity, hope for the future. But it was a precarious peace that he'd found, and being responsible for another needless loss of life, of another young person who hoped only to do good in the world, threatened to banish that peace. On principle, Bruce Wayne did not want to see Darkseid prevail. For vindication, he could not allow Claire Branigan to die.

* * *

"Come in, My Lord," Granny Goodness said as she stood in the doorway of the old brownstone brick orphanage. It had taken a moment of adjustment to realize what was happening when she'd opened the door and seen a young woman waiting to be let in - but a faithful servant would recognize her master anywhere. "An interesting choice of a vessel."

"This one did not resist. She will suffice," the voice from Claire's body replied. "This city is the site you have chosen?"

"Gotham and Metropolis are the ideal location to begin our conquest, my lord," Granny said with a slight bow as she and Claire retreated into the back room of the orphanage. "Desaad is setting up his operational base as we speak. The people here are just as flawed and careless as all of the other worlds we've vanquished."

"Good," Claire said with a curt nod. "We have more work to do on this planet. These are more advanced beings than the others to be sure. Flawed, but more advanced nonetheless. It will take more than a show of force to subjugate them."

"We will find the Mother Box," Granny Goodness nodded obligingly. "And we will complete the Equation."

"The Anti-Life Equation," Claire affirmed. "The ancient wisdom that has long been hidden away from me. Once I have it, this World will be mine."

"And you will have it, my lord," Granny Goodness replied. "We will attain it for you."

Claire took in a deep breath, gently shutting her eyes and clenching her fists at her sides. "She can hear us," she said, referring to Claire's real consciousness, hidden deep within the mind that Darkseid had taken over. "She feels fear. She grows restless."

"You will not need to use this vessel for long, my lord," Granny Goodness nodded. "We will find the Mother Box, and you can truly make your glorious return."

"Excellent," came the response. "Get to work, then."


	38. Chapter 38

_**Weeks Earlier** _

* * *

_"Are you just going to stand there and watch me, or are you gonna help?" Claire said with an almost childlike huff, looking up from the telescope she was trying to calibrate. "We've got less than an hour before we miss the best view."_

_"From up here, you can see the a meteor shower without a telescope," Lex said with a wag of his finger, walking over and covering the eyepiece before Claire could lean over and look into it again. After all, from the top of Luthor Tower, they were so far up into the Metropolis skyline, their view of the sky was as unobstructed as it could possibly be without going out of the city a number of hours. "It seems like a little bit of wasted effort."_

_Claire pursed her lips and huffed slightly, but conceded by taking a step back from the telescope._

_"Fine," she said, attempting to play off the mild embarrassment. There were times, she would admit, that it was very hard to ignore the fact that Lex Luthor Jr. was in fact a genius, and that while she was a smart girl and a hard-worker, she would perhaps always feel a little out of her league._

_Lex dropped it, mostly out of awareness of the fact that growing up in the smog-ridden downtown area of Metropolis, seeing stars was something she hadn't necessarily been able to do on a nightly basis. If anything, he took a little bit of pride in being the person who was able to make this a possibility for her, almost as though in a strange way, this was heroism._

_"If we don't need a telescope, why did you have it brought up here, then?" Claire finally spoke up again, crossing her arms and cocking her head to one side. To this, Lex smirked and gave a small shrug._

_"Because you asked for it."_

_There were times that Claire found Lex Luthor completely infuriating, and times that she thought he was perhaps in a strange way, the best person she'd ever met. This was certainly among the latter._

_Sitting on a rooftop with Alexander Luthor Jr. and waiting for a meteor shower was not something Claire would have foreseen herself doing a year ago - and for that matter, it was not something Lex would have foreseen either. Claire Branigan, he had realized bit by bit, made him strong. Her presence, to Lex, was a source of power that he did not ever want to be deprived of._

_Lex felt Claire's grip on his hand tighten as she looked up at the sky, catching the first glimpses of light streaking across. Truth be told, Lex didn't care for these kinds of things. He had long ceased looking up into the sky, because there was nothing there for him. But the look of wonder on the face of the woman next to him made him wonder ever so briefly if there was something to be said for the activity, however frivolous it seemed._

_He realized after a few moments that she was closing her eyes, and he shifted to regard her with confusion and curiosity - had she come all the way up here after a long day of work to simply shut her eyes and not look at the meteor shower after all?_

_Sensing Lex's shift, Claire opened her eyes and tilted her head to one side._

_"What are you looking at?"_

_"What are you doing?"_

_"Making a wish," Claire supplied as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. "That's what you're supposed to do, isn't it?"_

_"Well, what did you wish for?"_

_"I'm not supposed to say until it comes true," Claire replied with a smirk. "That's how wishes work."_

* * *

But Lex Luthor did not waste time on wishing. He was a man of action, and he could not use precious hours dwelling on things that were lost. Something greater was coming, and he was a creature of survival - what mattered now was finishing what he had started and giving himself a fighting chance, even if it was alone.

Except he was not alone, he reminded himself. Despite the overwhelming feeling of loneliness that washed over him in a a home that was all of a sudden silent again, he was not and could not be alone. In the two days since Claire's departure, during which she had not so much as shown herself to anyone, Lex had spent as little time inside his own home as possible. The silence taunted him. His inability to sleep rendered home useless anyway.

Admittedly, he felt his body beginning to drag from the lack of sleep, which was now omitted from his schedule in favor of more work. But work needed to be done. He had turned this into a mental mantra of sorts as he made his way to the warehouse at the docks that had been designated as his meeting place with Leonard Snart, who now claimed to be delivering the shipment which Lubrano had failed to obtain.

"Where am I?" an accented voice called out, and in the darkened warehouse, Lex caught sight of a man with bound hands and feet, his eyes covered with a blindfold. "Where have you taken me?"

"Relax, friend," Leonard said with a smirk, kneeling next to the man and clapping a hand on his shoulder. "You're in good hands."

"David, David, David," Lex said, clapping his hands and taking a few jaunty steps forward, his footfall echoing in the empty room. "Or... Manta? Is that what you prefer? Black Manta?"

Upon drawing nearer to the man on the ground, Lex reached over and removed the blindfold from his face with a flourish, making a high-pitched, amused noise.

"It's a pleasure to meet you," he said matter-of-factly. "Even if under slightly inconvenient circumstances."

"Where am I?" David repeated through gritted teeth.

"Lenny," Lex said casually, raising his eyebrows and gesturing with open palms towards David's hands and feet, "I think this is slight overkill," he said with a Cheshire Cat grin before turning his attention back to their new guest. "You, my good friend, are at the Metropolis Docks. And I'm Lex Luthor - maybe you've heard of me."

"Never."

"How vexing," Lex said in an amused tone, clapping his hands together as Leonard finished cutting David loose from his bindings. "Suffice it to say, I'm a very, very rich man who happens to have a bone to pick with someone who is now good chums with someone with whom you have a bone to pick," Lex explained very quickly, perhaps even in a single breath. "Small world, isn't it?"

"Orin."

"Ah, right. That's what they call him out at sea, isn't it?" Lex said, crossing his arms and starting to pace jauntily back and forth in front of David. "Yes. Orin. Arthur Curry. Aquaman."

"What do you want from me?"

"I hear you're an inventor, my friend. I would like to offer you access to all of LexCorp's remote research facilities situated in the Atlantic Ocean, just North of Cape Verde," Lex replied. "In exchange for your willingness to lend a little manpower in Mr. Curry and his new friends should ever pose a threat to me."

David looked up at Lex with suspicion. It was expected, after all, that he wouldn't trust a stranger so quickly, especially when said stranger had just had you smuggled unconscious into a foreign country.

But Orin of Atlantis - Arthur Curry - was someone for whom David held enough hatred to allow him to look past that.

"What about him?" David asked, nodding in Leonard's direction. "What do you offer him to work for you?"

"You don't work for me. That's ridiculous," Lex said with a wide gesture of his hand. "The three of us - and more, if Lady Luck is on my side - would merely be close business partners with something very significant in common."

"Which is?"

"A bone to pick to someone who is... a little bit stronger. A little more powerful. A little more than human," Lex recited, his face turning into a slight sneer. "We're all men. Just men in foolish, foolish wars against gods," he said in a strangely distant tone. "But I am absolutely certain that with our combined strengths, we can win."

Win. The idea of winning against Orin of Atlantis seemed sweet and unobtainable - but the claims Lex Luthor spun into a fanciful web in his mind seemed to get under David's skin. Seeing the shift in the man's countenance, Lex turned on the ball of one foot and faced him, hands placed on his hips.

"We can get you to the labs without delay. Today," Lex said with lopsided but still enthusiastic grin. "You can begin work on whatever weapons and tools your heart desires in your little quest for revenge. All I'm asking for is assistance. Access to your work. Agree to that, and you will find yourself the master of a Willy Wonka Chocolate Factory of mass destruction."

Upon finishing, Lex leaned over so his face was close to David, who was still seated and stunned on the floor of the warehouse. "Questions? Comments? Complaints?" Lex asked in a sing-song tone.

"When do I go?"

"There is a boat currently docked at the marina with coordinates set to my research facilities, and provisions that should last you a good while," Lex said, reaching into his coat pocket and producing a key, twirling it with the ring wrapped around his index finger. "You're welcome to set sail whenever you'd like."

He allowed the key to drop with a small clatter onto the ground in front of David, who hesitated before picking it up and getting to his feet.

"Good man," Lex sad, clapping his hands again. "I'll be in touch when your skills are needed. Tata, Mister Manta."

David hesitated, clenching the key in his hand and examining Lex's expression with great apprehension before nodding and heading towards the door without another word, leaving Lex to turn and look at Leonard with an impressed nod.

"So," Lex said, crossing his arms over his chest again and taking a few steps back and forth. "There is honor among thieves among thieves."

"There's honor among thieves who are appropriately compensated," Leonard said with a smirk and a tilt of his head. "I delivered your shipment, Mister Luthor."

"And you will receive every cent you were promised," Lex said with a chuckle, shaking his head. "Transferred to your account in installments over the next few days. No funny business, or you know where to find me."

"I suppose you have no choice but to buy friends," Leonard said with a cold smirk on his face, tilting his head to one side. "I noticed your pretty little girlfriend is conspicuously absent from our little meeting. Busy?"

"That isn't any of your business."

"Oh, but I think it's of the utmost importance to have a working knowledge of my... business partners," Leonard chuckled, now relishing the brief one up he had on Lex Luthor, who up until now seemed to pull all of the strings. "Had a little bit of a falling out with the lady friend?"

"Don't," Lex said with a cold glare, stopping in his tracks, "mention Claire again, Mister Snart. She's not a part of our business."

"Suit yourself," Leonard said with an exaggerated shrug before starting towards the door. "Just showing a little bit of friendly concern is all."

And the Central City gave a dramatic bow before exiting the warehouse, leaving Lex alone again in the dimly lit warehouse.

This should have been a moment he could celebrate - another piece had fallen into place. The legion he was hoping to form to provide balance against the team of metahumans now gaining strength. But instead, it was tainted by the fact that come to believe his strength lay in another person who was now gone. Claire was gone. Claire was-

He founds his thoughts interrupted by the familiar flickering of lights that hearkened to something that had happened once before. The lights buzzed and flickered into darkness for a brief moment, and when they came back, Lex found himself face to face with the same person as before.

"We're going on a ride, Luthor."

"I'm hardly interested in being your copilot, Mister Wayne," Lex sneered at the man under the cowl. "Give me a reason -"

"We've spotted her," Bruce interrupted, his voice garbled by the device in his cowl. "And you're coming with me."

* * *

"Leave the girl's body, Darkseid," Diana said in a low voice, in the vain hope that the encounter would not need to escalate. They had encountered Claire - Darkseid - the streets of Metropolis, leaving a building that was in the process of being converted to a nightclub by a man named Desaad. She was clad in a hooded coat, all dark colors, with her appearance obstructed by what appeared to be kohl smeared around her eyes. Victor and Barry both stood behind Diana, bracing themselves to fight.

"The girl's body? I think you're mistaken," Darkseid replied. "There is no more of the girl left - only Darkseid. I no longer hear her. I no longer sense her."

"Bullshit."

Victor's deep voice was the first to speak up in response, which brought a small smirk to Diana's face.

"The Mother Box was broken. I know 'cause it's mine," Victor continued - for the first time actually wielding a glimmer of pride in the statement. "You're just fighting to keep her contained but she's in there."

"Not," Darkseid said in a low, cool voice, "for long."

And quickly, in a flash of red light, a beam of energy shot out from Claire's hands, razing the street and hacking down light poles like trees. In another swift gesture, a fist slamming to the ground created a rumbling like an Earthquake and sending a wave of cracks through the wide street and sidewalks. The buildings surround the area began bustling with activity as people began poring towards their windows to see what was happening.

"We have to get her away from here," Diana said, drawing her sword from its sheath and steeling her stance to face Darkseid while as best as she could, avoiding harm to Claire. "Victor -"

"Ten steps ahead, Your Highness," Vic said with a new glimmer of youthful energy and willingness, raising his arm and allowing the cybernetic encasement to shift into a weapon that resembled a cannon. He raised it in Claire's direction as she paused in her havoc on the roads - he fired a blast in her direction that bellowed with a loud, pulsating noise, knocking Claire a good distance back, clear to the end of the block before she landed on the grass of the park at the end of th cul de sac.

"So I get to run real fast, and everyone else gets badass toys? What a rip off," Barry joked before darting off the direction of the park and, as Claire started to get up, knocking her back to the ground in a blur of red. "It's usually my policy not to hit girls," he quipped before running rapid circles around her, then suddenly stopping to that the momentum threw her further into the empty park, farther from the crowded street. "But then I remind myself, you're not a girl. You're just renting the space."

From the other end of the street, the roar of engines signaled a new arrival - the Batmobile screeched and drifted to a halt, and Lex Luthor was the first to emerge from the passenger side as though being in the vehicle had physically burned him. From the driver side, Bruce emerged and quickly took in the sight.

Another blast of bright red light shooting out from the direction of the park was accompanied by an angered bellow, and Lex caught sight of Claire - though he knew it wasn't truly her - using the beam of energy like a scythe, taking down trees and lampposts almost effortlessly. The sight of his Claire wielding such power, the thought of Claire becoming some kind of greater being, was sickening. Not Claire. Anyone but Claire. Feeling his hands quivering, he began to succumb to his initial instinct to flee, backing away from the Batmobile and preparing to run until he felt fists grab hold of his shirt from behind and throw him against the car.

"Where do you think you're going?"

"I have no business here. I'm leaving this to the heroes -"

"Afraid that's not an option, Luthor. Diana!"

Diana had been prepared to lunge forward to help Barry and Victor in facing Darkseid, but turned immediately at the sound of her name to see Lex tear himself away from Bruce's grasp, attempting to flee. Rolling her eyes in exasperation and wondering silently why men couldn't manage the simplest of tasks without her help, she drew her lasso from its holster at her hip and, with a deft and mighty throw, cast the loop around Lex and yanked him closer to her. Diana quickly realized as she caught sight of Barry and Victor fighting Darkseid-Claire from the corner of her eye that if ever there was any hope of even glimpsing the real Claire, this was it. She reeled him closer and yanked him to his feet before calling out.

"Face me, Darkseid!" Diana called out over the din of crashes and blasts - immediately, Claire's face as was turned in their direction, still looking cold and prepared to obliterate. But as she turned, prepared now to first take on the woman in their midst, she was instead met by the sight of Lex Luthor, bound by the woman's lasso and struggling to get his arms free. The red glow in Claire's eyes flickered, the expression of rage faltered.

"You're hurting him!" came a shrill cry that was chilling to them all for the fact that it clearly belonged to Claire - the real Claire. She had momentarily regained control, and the action left the heroes stunned but validated - she was still there. There was something still left to save.

But as quickly as this flicker of the real Claire appeared, the hateful and hardened expression returned, and the reddened glow of the eyes came back to life.

"The girl deceived me. Very... clever," Darkseid said through Claire's voice, and the use of the word seemed to set off a cascade of a reaction in Lex, whose jaw clenched in fury as he thrashed again against his bonds. "But she is not trying to take back control from me now. This body is mine."

Lacking full power, however, Darkseid's perception was not perfect - it was limited by the confines of Claire's body, and as such, did not see the blur of red until it was too late. Barry had recovered and lunged forward, knocking into the midsection of Claire's body so quickly and with such forced that it left her stunned long enough for Victor to lunge forward, grabbing the scruff of the collar of the dark coat she wore and pulling her up with him into the sky, flying off with her.

"Arthur is in place. You know the plan!" Diana bellowed out loudly. Barry spared only a momentarily glance backward over his shoulder at Diana, smirking briefly before disappearing in a blur of red in the same direction in which Victor had disappeared with Claire. Diana turned back to Bruce, giving him a pointed expression before looking back at a still stunned, shaking Lex Luthor - she freed him from the lasso and yanked back the scruff of his collar.

"And you," Diana said sternly, "are going to help us, are you not? You saw her. You heard her."

"I'm not going to help you," Lex snarled, his face contorting in rage as he took a stumbling step backwards. "This is to help Claire. No one else."

"Go."

Lex sneered at being ordered around by this metahuman - this Wonder Woman he had hunted but Bruce Wayne had managed to get his hands on first. However, bitterly, he turned back to the direction where Diana gestured, where Batman was waiting to transport him into place for the plan. There was only one reason that could force Lex Luthor willingly into close quarters with the Bat - trapped in the Batmobile with the man who had put him in Arkham Asylum.

There would perhaps be no other opportunity after this to preserve the real Claire. Knowing this, they sped off in the direction of Metropolis Bay.


	39. Chapter 39

"I didn't think we were supposed to be drowning her," Barry yelled out to the rest of the team as a stream of water rose from the depths of the Metropolis Bay at Arthur's command, knocking Claire out of the air and sending her crashing into the water, only to have her shoot up into the sky aagain within a matter of seconds. "I feel like we're a little short-staffed here!"

"Back on the bridge," Arthur roared, gesturing with his weapon of choice - an old, ornate trident - at the Metro-Narrows Bridge, where they had now moved the fight to minimize collateral damage to the city of Metropolis. Sure enough, Diana Prince had just arrived on the scene, with the Batmobile carrying Bruce and Lex Luthor arriving just moments after.

Just as they arrived, a blast erupted from Claire's hands, intended to fire straight at the bridge but deflected with a deftly timed blast of water from the Bay, directed by Arthur's trident so that instead, it hit the high rocky knoll lining the bay, taking a large chunk out of the hillside which went crashing into the sea.

"Anytime now, guys," Vic roared over the din, struggling to contribute to the fight with the Mother Box tucked underneath one arm. "Clock's ticking!"

Bruce got out of the driver's side of his car, stepping around and throwing open the door on the other side, yanking Lex out unceremoniously and pushing him towards the railing so that he could see the scene beneath them.

"There's only one person who stands a chance of getting through to her," Diana said, standing back a short distance as Lex looked down at the fight - at the woman he loved, soaring and causing havoc like everything he hated. Seeing her become one of them - seeing her become like these men in the sky - made him feel sick to his stomach.

"I've told you what we need to do," Bruce said without pretense. "There's only going to be one chance, Luthor. Get ready."

"Hm," Lex said, crossing his arms and staring down at the fight raging beneath them, below the Metro-Narrows Bridge. He gave a forced huf of a laugh through his nostrils before taking a step back from the railing and looking back at Bruce and Diana. "You're the heroes here. Isn't it your job to handle saving the damsels in distress?"

"You disgusting coward."

In what seemed like the blink of an eye, Diana Prince had closed the space between herself and Lex Luthor, lifting him off the floor by the collar of his shirt and paying no mind to his desperate grasping at her hands to release him. "That woman is no damsel in distress - that woman is wise and good and kind and she sacrificed her life, her future for you. She was prepared to die for a coward like you," Diana said in a near-hiss, her voice laced with disgust. Bruce looked on, stoic but surprised at the sudden show of rage from the Amazonian woman. "And if you do not help us, Lex Luthor, we will have no choice but to destroy her."

With his face contorted into a sneer at the indignity of being hoisted around like a rag doll, Lex dropped his arms to his sides, prompting Diana to lower him to the ground again. Oddly, as she lowered her hands to her sides again, Bruce's hand gently closed over her shoulder for a brief few moments in a rare comforting gesture before he withdrew it yet again.

The thought of Claire Branigan being willing to die for him was not something Lex had ever prepared himself for. His belief that humans were selfish and self-serving and that in the end, one remained completely alone was something that for many years had been his only survival. It was wise to trust no one, because in the end, no one would be loyal.

And somehow, gentle Claire had entered his life like a mighty gust of wind and reduced that belief to rubble. It was, in a strange way, a deep loss. The loss of his ability to say that he had no one was something that shook him to his very deepest core. He had built an empire on this idea of being alone.

"Can you guarantee she'll come out alive?" Lex asked in a voice that was so weak - almost pleading - that it left Diana momentarily stunned. They had known that Claire loved Lex Luthor, but only in this moment did the possibility present itself in both Bruce and Diana's mind that he deeply, genuinely cared for this woman as well.

"...I cannot," Diana admitted honestly. "I can only guarantee that if you do not act, Mister Luthor, that she will die."

To hear it put so simply and concretely seemed to be more than Lex Luthor could handle - again came the familiar feeling of his body tensing, his hands curling into fists at his sides, his shoulders shaking. And Claire was here. She was so close. She should have been there to stop the shaking, to lull the loudness in his head into peace. But she was not. And if he did not act - if he did not comply with the requests of people whom he had all along associated with unilateral, undeserved power, with abuse, with exploitation - she would never be again.

"Do you understand?" Bruce pressed, his voice deep and stoic. "There is no man in the sky that's going to be able to save her. No one else. If you want power, this may be the most power you ever have. Darkseid is going to be stopped, one way or another. But you decide if she gets destroyed in the process."

Lex had come to terms with the fact that it had not been his call that brought Darkseid to Earth. He realized that he did wield such power. The small semblance of power he'd felt had dissipated into a realization that this was all vanity.

"Are we doing this or not?" Vic's voice roared from down below, right before another concussive blast from Claire's hands shot downward into the water, causing a massive wave that crashed against the shore, upending the boats docked in the marina.

"Your time is running out, Luthor," Diana spoke up, already steadying herself with a heavy heart to launch into action, accepting the possibility that perhaps Lex Luthor was truly unwilling. "She has to be -"

"I'll do it."

There was a momentary beat before Diana looked briefly back at Bruce, sharing a nod with him before taking her lasso from its holster at her waist. Lex fliinched as Diana hurled the lasso so the loop fell over his head, tightening it around his ribs and stepping closer to him.

"You will be safe. We need you in one piece for this," Diana said with a gentle irk of her eyebrow, reading the suspicion in Lex's face. Holding the end of the lasso, she stepped to the railing of the bridge and called out. "Get her into position!"

Having evidently prepared for this scenario, the team leapt into action. Arthur immediately lifted his trident and began whirling it around his head, calling up a cone-shaped whirlpool of water from the bay that surrounded Claire, while Barry began circling in a scarlet-colored blur, around the whirlpool almost as though he were running on the cone of water itself, the collective momentum of the water and Barry's speed hoisting Claire up into air in the center of the storm, spread-eagled as though all of her limbs were being pulled outward - she was in the middle of a centrifuge, threatening to tear her apart.

Meanwhile, Bruce removed a grappling hook from his utility belt, shooting it over a support cable of the Metro-Narrows Bridge so that it made a graceful arc before falling in front of Vic below, who grabbed a hold and allowed himself to be hoisted up to the top of the bridge, placed just above the opening of the cyclone - he gave a thumbs up signal, now holding the Mother Box with both hands, prepared to ask.

"You don't have much time," Diana said to Lex, securing the loop around his midsection, looping it around a support pole, and then around her own waist then moving as close to the edge of the bridge as she could. "I will bring you into the cyclone, but only you can get through to her." She removed the shield from her back and nodded to edge. "We jump."

And for reasons he could not pinpoint, he willingly jumped alongside Diana Prince into the heart of the cyclone, nearly colliding with her in mid-air. She secured an arm around his waist, using her shield to stop the cyclone from pulling them into the center, instead suspended in the violent flurry of wind and water, directly in front of Claire who was still held, splayed in front of them, attempting to get free.

Lex saw the red glow in her eyes and felt for a moment that this was a lost cause - it was a battle that could not be won. This was not his Claire. He did not see her anywhere. However, because the lasso fastened around his ribs was no ordinary rope, he was compelled not to keep quiet. To not pretend that this was not his Claire or that he did not have hope she could hear.

"Claire!" he found himself unable to restrain himself from calling out over the roaring wind. "You can't die. You can't leave me. Not like this."

"Claire is gone. She was weak. She has left you," came the voice out of Claire's body, the red glow of the eyes glowing brighter. "I have destroyed her."

" _Claire_!" Lex continued calling out, "I - I don't understand - _I don't_ -"

The frantic, cracking tone in Lex's voice seemed to stir something within the body - the glimmering red eyes flickered, and the head thrashed as though fighting back against something. Claire was attempting to regain to control.

"Get out of here!" The shrill cry was one that Lex and Diana both knew had to have come from Claire. "Lex, get out - get away from here -"

"You're going to die here, Claire -"

" _I know._ "

The statement seemed to wash over Lex like ice - she knew this would kill her. She had no intentions of surviving. She had taken this being into her body with no intention of making it out alive, only to spare Lex from doing the same. "No," Lex said, thrashing against the lasso, his voice erupting into a shrill laugh. "No. You're not going to do this. I - I need you to live, Claire. _I need you._ "

It was a confession that never would have come without the compulsion of the Lasso of Truth - and Diana had known because while she did not know Lex Luthor, she had lived too much of a life to not know that men like him would not speak their deepest truths without some use of force. The red glow in Claire's eyes flickered more violently, and it became evident that the fight between Claire and Darkseid for control was growing more impassioned. Diana finally looked upward at Vic, who stood atop the bridge in wait.

"Now!" Diana roared, and Vic held the Mother Box out in front of himself. Seemingly energized by the presence of the man it considered a master, it began to glow a radiant white, even through its cracks and dents, and when Vic released it from its hands, it lowered itself into the cyclone as though it were following his will, filling the cone of wind with warm white light.

A loud, agonized roar escaped from Claire's lips as the red glow returned into her eyes, her body still being pulled in all directions, but once the white light washed over her, the area around them became so bright that it was blinding. Lex shut his eyes against the light, unable to see anything, only hearing the same roaring sound of the wind and water now accompanied by a high-pitched squeal coming from the Mother Box, and the cry of Claire's voice that didn't belong to her.

The noise grew louder and louder until suddenly, with a shuddering boom of energy, the white light erupted outward and dispelled the cyclone with such concussive force that it seemed to throw Barry and Arthur aside like rag dolls. Diana released her hold on Lex Luthor, and like a pulley, he was hoisted upward back towards the bridge - the lasso, as though moving with its own mind, unwound itself from his waist, and as he flew upward, he was pulled from the sky, yanked so that he rolled onto his side back onto the bridge with a thud.

He still had the wind knocked out of him from the impact when the white light dissipated and the roaring noise died away, leaving an almost eerie silence around them. Lex forced himself to his feet and hurried to edge of the bridge, looking down into the water to see Diana in the water below, swimming and pulling a motionless Claire Branigan to shore.

Lex found himself still stunned and motionless while both Bruce and Victor rushed past him to join the others - he stayed behind as they gathered around Claire, unconscious and pale on the shore. A short way off, debris from the now-destroyed Mother Box bobbed for a few moments before disappearing, sinking into the depths.

He had failed. He was sure of it. Fate was reminding him that he was still powerless, that he was still tiny and inconsequential and did not have the power he wished. He'd failed. If Darkseid was vanquished, he was only _temporarily_ vanquished. And Claire... Claire was...

"She's alive," Diana said, sounding shocked herself at the fact. "We need to get her to Dr. Thompkins."

Lex's eyes widened upon hearing the words faintly in the distance. Claire had lived. He had done it.

But, Lex now realized, he had done it by working alongside everything he purported to hate. And now, she was in their hands. This was something he could not face. He could not be one of them. They were still the enemy. He couldn't be here with them. In what felt a great deal like shame for having been weak enough to stand side by side with the beings he'd considered monsters, Lex ran off, away from the bridge and away from them.

Diana, meanwhile, had gotten to her feet while Victor - physically the strongest among them - had gathered the unconscious Claire into his arms to carry her away. Diana felt a heaviness in her heart, seeing Lex run away and knowing that he simply could not accept having for once not been enemies with what he so loathed. Diana of all people knew that wars such as these in which sides had to be taken could easily tear apart even the most real of loves. She had felt it. She had experienced it. And now, she feared that Claire would have to feel the same pain - but she was a mere human.

That, however, was secondary. For now, they had to hope that they could simply make sure she survived.


	40. Chapter 40

"You shouldn't be here."

"Do you want to see her or not, Mister Luthor?" Diana said with a graceful arch of her eyebrow, standing on the other side of the front gate to Luthor Manor. Lex had been on his way to prep for a press conference - his first alone in a good while - about LexCorp's contributions to repairing the damage done to the Metro Narrows Bridge when he'd spotted Amazonian standing outside his property as though she had business there. "If you don't, I'm happy not to have to waste my time."

"Where is she?"

"I'm going to take you to her," Diana retorted vaguely, crossing her arms over her chest. "But you must first realize that she isn't alone."

"I'd presumed as much," Lex said, fighting back a sneer because he knew he was far outmatched, especially alone - just this realization in and of itself, Lex realized, was a little bit sickening. He hated being the weaker party in any interaction. It was too dangerous. "Why would you bring me into your secret club's little clubhouse?"

"We're far from bringing you to our clubhouse, Mister Luthor," Diana said, allowing a small smirk to grace her lips. "You can think of where we're going as more of a getaway home. Follow me."

Lex could admit the disdain he felt at having to follow Diana Prince anywhere, let alone into her car, where she was behind the wheel and Lex held no control over their destination whatsoever. He inwardly cursed himself for having allowed this to happen, but knew that he would only need to suffer this embarrassment for a short time, and only because it was the means to an end.

The woman Lex loved - who he could now _admit_ that he loved - was central to his success, and her swift return and a return to normalcy were both long overdue.

He exited the car in front of Wayne Towers and again sneered in disdain at the need to follow Diana Prince to the elevator, through the hallways until they reached one particular corridor and there at the end like a sentinel was another familiar figure. Bruce Wayne. Immediately at the sight of Lex Luthor, he broke into a rapid, steady stride in his direction. Lex felt himself recoil in response to the sight of the man's menacing approach until Diana placed herself squarely between them.

"He has a right to be here," Diana said curtly, drawing herself up to full height in front of Bruce, whose jaw clenched in indignation at this argument before Diana added with slightly narrowed eyes, "She would want him here."

And Bruce felt his temper subsiding, if only because he knew that Diana was correct and would need to lick his wound as he often did when proven wrong by the Amazonian. He let out a breath through his nostrils, accompanied by a sound that was something like a growl. Still, the piercing glare from Diana Prince was enough to move him - he walked off with one last, narrow-eyed glance at Lex Luthor. Diana exhaled with a heaving sigh and allowed her shoulders to relax only slightly before reaching out to open the door.

"Doctor," she said quietly, alerting Dr. Leslie Thompkins, who was sitting at the side of the single room in the suite where Claire lay, not yet having awakened. "Mister Luthor needs a moment alone."

Dr. Thompkins got to her feet and glanced questioningly at Diana, who merely nodded in affirmation.

"She's stable, Mister Luthor," Dr. Thompkins said calmly as she strode across to room past him. "But I can't say for sure when she's going to wake up."

Diana respectfully led Dr. Thompkins from the room, shutting the door behind them and leaving Lex alone with Claire for the first time in what felt like ages.

He felt his stomach writhe at seeing her like this. Lex had always said that he found her most beautiful in a little bit of chaos, but seeing Claire lying still in a hospital-style cot, there was no chaos to be found. He realized briefly in the back of his mind that he valued chaos because chaos was all that he knew of life.

And in this moment, there was barely any source of life in her.

"You're not going to take the easy way out, are you?" Lex said with a bitter chuckle, pacing back and forth at the foot of her bed like he often did when she was awake, when he was interrogating her about something or other. When he couldn't sleep and needed to think. "I've never known you to be the oversleeping type."

He wanted her to give begrudging laugh at his humor - she always did. It was a courtesy that she allotted him out of kindness, acknowledging him in that way, and not, not receiving it was foreign and perturbing to Lex.

"Terrible things happen when you intercept a destiny that doesn't belong to you," Lex said, his gaze going blank as he stepped to a spot at Claire's bedside, forcing himself to look down at her, to see her still and quiet. "I called him. I called Darkseid. That was my destiny. I would have been the one he chose, and no one would have saved me. No one would have decided I needed to be brought back. _My_ destiny would have been fulfilled. But you intervened."

Lex knew it was selfish, what went through his mind as he looked down at her - but he couldn't have cared. He had not missed someone or longed for someone for many, many years and did not want to feel it. He would have rather left Claire behind to feel those things and spared himself. In the deepest recesses of his mind, he was convinced that Claire was far stronger, far more equipped to deal with missing _him_.

_"You brought him here without so much as telling the team? Diana, what were you -"_

_"Do not treat me like I'm foolish, Bruce."_

The doors to the room flew open to reveal Bruce storming angrily in with his gaze now trained on Lex standing at Claire's bedside.

"I told you to give them a moment alone -"

"And I told you that I didn't trust this crook as far as I could throw him," Bruce sneered as he and Diana again stood practically toe-to-toe. "We're all here - you could have put us all in danger."

"He's not here to put us in danger, I brought him to see her," Diana said, holding her ground without wavering in the least. "What he chooses to do after is his own -"

"It's not his own anything, Diana. It was your decision and it's our problem," Bruce insisted, his teeth gritted in frustration - the woman in front of him was intelligent, she was powerful, but by God was she also stubborn. "We don't know what he wants from us -"

"I want nothing more, Mister Wayne," Lex said, sauntering over with a hand on his hips, shaking his heading with a weak laugh. "Than for the woman on that bed to be back on her feet. And since I'm a very busy man with another important engagement on my calendar, I'd appreciate if you'd hurry up and name your price -"

"Price?" Bruce said, unable to keep his voice from descending into a near snarl. "What price?"

"For giving Claire the best care possible."

"Your money is no good here," Diana said, placing a steadying hand on Bruce's chest to stop him from moving towards Lex and instead taking a few steps towards him herself. "She will be cared for with the very best we can offer. We don't need your bribes."

"Good to hear," Lex said with an expression torn between a sneer and a forced grin. "And since you're all a bunch of... bleeding heart superheroes," he added, raising his eyebrows and bending very slightly at the waist to lean closer to Diana without stepping nearer to her, "I'll hold you to your word. I'll see myself out, then."

Bruce considered his own restraint as Lex Luthor swept out of the room as though he owned the place to be just exemplary, but a single glance in Diana's direction made it clear that she was nowhere near as impressed as she stared at him, shaking her head gently.

"I'll call Doc and the others back in, then," he said, clearing his throat and turning to leave the room rather than stand for another lecture - they'd been happening a great deal more lately. As she waited for Bruce to call the others back in to Claire's bedside, Diana went to take a seat in the chair need the head of her bed, brushing hair out of the young woman's face and looking down at her sadly.

"If only," Diana said with a weak near-smile, "a girl like you could just how large a ripple she has created in the world."

"Her vitals have evened out. She might be able to wake up soon with a little more stimulation," Doctor Thompkins said as she returned to the room, resuming post on the other side of the bed from Diana while Bruce, Barry, Victor, and now even Clark - who had only just found himself with the strength to venture from the suite he'd been brought to for recovery - followed her inside.

"Arthur's gone again?" Diana asked briefly, looking up and scanning those who had entered the room.

"Fish Man's a little bit of a lone wolf," Barry said with a comical grimace. "He said if we needed him, he'd know."

"Well," Diana said, only barely hiding the disappointment that Arthur had departed so quickly, "he hasn't let us down yet. Just give him time. He's one of us."

But the glance shared a room hinted that there was a great deal of doubt. Arthur Curry, it seemed, was still very much on the fence when it came to the idea of being some kind of hero for the masses. He had his world. It was small, and it was hidden, but he was making it very clear that it was more than good enough for him.

"Well, about we trying waking our favorite patient up, then?" Barry spoke up, chuckling weakly in attempts at breaking the tension. "Not that she's not a hoot the way she is, but the Sleeping Beauty gig is a little bit of a downer."

"If she's ready, we'll see," Doctor Thompkins said, walking over to the sink to wet a washcloth with cool water, wringing it out before coming back to Claire's bedside. There seemed to be a collective holding of breath while the doctor wiped the cold cloth over Claire's brow, over her face and neck. She stood up and pulled on the small ornate chain that hung from the ceiling fan to blow a cool breeze towards the bed. For a short while, there seemed to be no response, and it seemed as though the effort was still in vain - Claire clearly wasn't ready. Just as Doctor Thompkins was about to give it a rest, however, there was a brief jolt of Claire's eyebrows. Another jolt, a tiny tilt of her head in response to the air hitting her face.

After a few quiet moments, Claire let out a faint groan before gently and just barely opening her eyes.

"Welcome back, MVP," Victor spoke of first, unable to hold back a muted grin of approval at the fact that the woman was clearly a survivor. "That was some pretty beastly work you did."

"What?" Claire muttered, gently shaking her head and raising her arm to shield her eyes as they adjusted to the light. "What do you -"

"How much do you remember?" Diana asked carefully. "We defeated Darkseid on the Metro Narrows Bridge. We couldn't have done it without you."

"That was... that was real?" Claire asked, shaking her head slowly and incredulously. "That's not possible. I wasn't supposed to... I wasn't supposed to be here anymore," she said in slight confusion. "I..."

Clark Kent was perhaps the only person who truly understood the emotion that hung in that unfinished sentence, because he was the only one who had been in that very same position. His face morphed into an expression of sadness for the turmoil he knew the younger woman must have been going through - she had been ready to die. She'd thought her moment had come, and it hadn't. It was a moment that should have been full of joy and gratitude, and yet such emotions were difficult to conjure after having already been resigned to one's fate. It awed him that the woman who loved Lex Luthor would be the one whose plight he sympathized with so deeply.

"Where is he?" Claire asked carefully, knowing full well that talking aabout Lex in present company would be met less than cordially. "Is he alright? Can I-"

"You can see him," Diana spoke up before anyone else could make a decision to the contrary. "He's fine. Alive and well. I'll show you."

Glancing up at the clock, Diana nodded slightly to herself before reaching for the remote to the television set and turning it on to the local news. Five o'clock exactly. As expected, the face on the screen was that of Lex Luthor, standing at a familiar podium and giving a speech so a see of reporters gathered at the onramp to the Metro Narrows Bridge, where construction equipment could be seen in the background.

"Let it not be forgotten that it has been LexCorp that has remained the constant presence in Metropolis's every hour of need," Lex said from the podium as Claire watched silently from her bed. "Despite all accounts to the contrary, LexCorp and its leadership remains committed as ever to making sure Metropolis stays the greatest city in the nation."

He was fine. Everything had seemingly gone back to normal - it was practically the same press conference he had given, Claire remembered, when LexCorp had rebuilt Metropolis following Superman's battle with Zod. Nothing had changed. The world - Lex's world - was simply moving on without her.

"Claire..."

She paused and tore her gaze away from the television screen when she realized that every other eye in the room was fixated upon her - but not at her face. She followed their gaze downward and away, off to the side where one of her hands gripped the metal railing of the bed.

Her stomach lurched at the sight of the bar when she let go of it - it had bent in her grip, leaving waving imprints of where her fingers had dug in.

"N-no," she stammered, shaking her head and feeling herself grow cold in shock as she looked down at her own hands, which quivered even though she could barely feel them. It was Victor who ventured to take a step forward towards the bed first.

"The Motherbox... saved you," he said carefully, prompting her to immediately look up towards the sound of his voice. "But I don't think you get exposed to the kind of energy that thing has without it leaving a lasting impression -"

"No," Claire said, a little more firmly, her hands clenched at her sides. "No. I couldn't have done that," she said, her voice growing shrill as she shook her head fervently. "I can't be like all of you. I can't."


	41. Chapter 41

_"I can't be like all of you. I can't."_

Claire looked down at the warped railings of the bed where her hands had been and glared at them with horror and disgust as though the sheer power of these emotions could reverse what she had managed to do. She clasped her hands in her lap and clenched her jaw, feeling a dizzying sensation as she attempted to process all of this.

Was she even a person anymore? Claire couldn't tell. Would it have felt different if she wasn't? Would she even be able to tell?

Meanwhile, however, the press conference on the television set played on, and Claire's breath caught in her throat as she heard what Lex had to say next.

"I stand by my assertion that metahumans are a menace," Lex continued vehemently, his gaze flicking from the crowd in front of him to the camera pointed in his direction so that Claire flinched, feeling as though he was looking at her as he spoke with coldness and sternness that Claire could no longer bring herself to associate with him. "And I will not rest until it is clear to them that this will not be accepted in our city."

A break of applause from the crowd.

"They can live human lives like the rest of us, or they can go back where they came from -"

Diana reached up and turned off the television set, cutting off the approving whoop and cheer that came from the crowd as she saw the color draining from Claire's face. She let out a piteous sound, somewhere between a groan and a whimper, burying her head in her hands. Victor and Barry glanced at each other, both realizing that this was something they couldn't do anything about.

"Claire," Bruce spoke up, taking a few steps closer to the bed with his arms crossed over his chest, though upon hearing his voice, the woman seemed to snap to attention. "If it were just you in danger, I'd believe that you could keep the situation under control, but -"

"Just stuff it, okay?" she spat resentfully, getting to her feet with surprising steadiness and walking across the room to the sliding glass door leading to the small patio. As she shut the door behind her, Bruce let out a disparaged groan before looking over at Diana, who already bore a disapproving expression.

"Of all the people she wants to hear the truth from, I don't think you're at the top of the list," she said, gently raising her eyebrows much to Bruce's chagrin. That look meant that this was not up for discussion.

"I don't know what's going to happen to her," he said, throwing his hands up slightly. "This wasn't the way things were supposed to go."

"You don't play games with a Mother Box and come out the other side the same," Victor said solemnly, partially crossing his arms and looking down at the metal-encased appendages. He knew this to be true better than perhaps anyone. "And if she's anything like me, it's not gonna be easy to just accept it."

"She needs to," Bruce insisted, his brow furrowing. "I didn't want this any more than anyone else but -"

"Well, maybe she doesn't wanna hear it from any of us," Barry spoke up after clearing his throat gently. "I mean, no offense, but if I was her I'd probably fed up with hearing all of you guys talk at me too," he shrugged. "Maybe let her hear it from someone who hasn't had the chance to piss her off yet."

There was a moment of silent acknowledgment of the fact that of the small circle of people they had to rely on, there was perhaps only one feasible option. Thankfully, said option was capable of arriving very quickly.

* * *

Lex, meanwhile, was driving back home alone - something to which he was no longer accustomed. There was a certain strangeness to the absence of Claire's fidgeting in the passenger seat, her incessant flicking through emails or shuffling through her briefcase for reports with which to occupy herself. It was somewhere in the haze of these thoughts that he found himself driving not back home, but to the spot overlooking Metropolis Bay where he had last spoken with her before all of this had happened.

He stepped out of the car and leaned against the front hood, crossing his arms over himself with an oddly severe expression as he looked out over the water. There was an emptiness that he could openly acknowledge. If Metropolis was his kingdom, he knew he no longer wanted to rule over it alone. But more than that was a sense of validation.

Darkseid had come - and now that the can of worms was opened, there was the ever-present possibility that he could come again. For some time now, Lex Luthor had lost sight of some kind of power to be greater than. But now, knowing that Darkseid could someday return - knowing that he had the desire and the intention of mastering their world - renewed a dark, stirring sense of ambition in Lex Luthor to master it first.

Other people had, perhaps, more healthy ways of missing someone. Other people were not Lex Luthor. For Lex, this emotion was worth only what he could channel it into - what end he could carry it to. There was no power to be found in missing someone, and so, he could not bring himself to succumb to it.

Pulling his phone from his pocket, Lex quickly dialed in a number he had memorized and waited for two rings before the voice on the other line answered.

"Lenny, old pal," he said with a slight chortle to himself when Leonard Snart answered the phone. "I'd like you see about procuring me a boat."

"A boat?"

"No rush," Lex said in a casual, almost sing-song tone. "Just foreseeing a little bit of traveling in our future to pay our friend David a visit."

"You have a plane."

"Yes, I do. I also have a Ducati," Lex said in an amused tone. "I'd like a boat. Ten-four, Icicle."

Plans, Lex Luthor reminded himself, could stop for no one. He could not dwell on whether or not Claire would live. He could not dwell on whether he would see her again. There would soon be bigger fish to fry.

* * *

Claire had been standing out on the balcony for a good while - she had realized that LexCorp Tower was visible from one side if you leaned out far enough, and she had practically curled herself into the side of the railing in order to catch even the most modest of glimpses. It caught her by surprise when she heard the sliding glass door from the suit glide open.

"What are you doing here?" Claire asked, backing further against the handrail with a suspicious expression as Clark joined her on the patio, with Lois standing in the doorway. "I don't -"

"I wanted to talk to you," he said, and Claire had to notice how out of all of them, he was the strongest physically but quite probably had the gentlest voice. "I know you didn't want this. And I'm sorry," he said gently. "For a long time, I wanted to be human too. I know how much it means, and I know you feel like you've lost something. But you did something great, Claire. You saved my life. You bought us all time against Darkseid."

"If I did something so great, why does it feel so shitty?" Claire asked, her gaze downcast before she caught herself and cleared her throat, looking off to the side. "I mean, don't get me wrong. I'm glad the world is saved and stuff but..."

Claire felt a tightening in her throat as she spoke, and she shook her head as though believing this could dispel it. She took a few breaths before looking back at Clark with a helpless shrug. "I'm not going to be like this forever, am I?" she asked helplessly. "I... I just need to let it pass, and then I can go back to my life."

Her life. Her life, Clark knew without her saying, with Lex Luthor.

"I know you love him," he said, and the lack of judgment in his voice was enough to take Claire off her guard, her brow knitting in slight confusion. "And I don't doubt that he loves you. But he fears anything that's stronger than him. Anything that makes him feel small. And he'd go to any lengths to get rid of it. Love doesn't... it doesn't magically heal people, Claire. He isn't safe around you, and no one's safe around him."

Claire felt the tightening in her chest at the fact that she had nothing to say - no argument, no witty retort, no redirection. She feebly moved her lips to speak and came up meekly with, "He doesn't need to know."

"I have... a lot of opinions on the man you love, Claire," Clark replied gently, knowing better than to share said opinions in present company with the delicate nature of this conversation. "But of all the things he is, he's no idiot. He'll see it - no matter how smart you are, he will. It'll hurt him, and it'll hurt you."

"I can't just leave."

"I know you can't. I know you can't leave Metropolis knowing that Bruce Wayne has it in for Lex. Believe me, I get it," Clark said. "And I think I made you a promise the night you saved my life that if the man you loved needed saving, I would help you. No hesitations. Isn't that right?"

"What?"

Perhaps, Claire admitted in a far-off, tiny corner of her mind, she had been around Lex so long that this act of gracious magnanimity, of Clark Kent offering to protect the person who was so hell-bent on destroying him and had threatened everything he held dear, seemed foreign. There was a moment of wavering in her resolve, and she gently tilted her head to one side as though the statement was one she couldn't understand.

"There was a long time that I didn't know what I was in this world," Clark said with surprisingly vulnerability and candor, his gaze shifting off to the side of the balcony. "I had to go away - from everyone. From everything that I loved. But when I came back to the world, I was a better person for it. I was stronger -"

"You think I need to go away," Claire said in disbelief, shaking her head and feeling almost angry at herself for the fact that tears were springing to her eyes. She gave a bitter, quiet laugh as she swiped at her eyes. "Metropolis is my home -"

"I think it's time that you need to take for yourself," he interrupted. "I think that it's temporary, and I will do everything in my power to make sure that Lex Luthor is safe when you come home."

For a moment, Claire seemed to be fighting against realizing the gravity of the situation - but she realized, just from a brief glance around, first that Clark Kent was sincere in his promise and second that everyone was staring at her as though she were holding a timebomb, and only she could defuse it. But it was somehow all making sense - there was too much of a chance that Lex could not bear knowing what had happened to her, and no chance in the world that she could hide it from him forever.

"We can help you, if you'll let us," Clark continued, seeing the slow dissolving of the hostility in her expression and knowing that if ever there was an opportunity to convince her, it had to be now. "I know you don't trust any of them in there, and you have no reason to, but just let us help you. I can't promise your life will be what it was, but I can promise we'll do everything we can."

CLaire slowly leaned away from the railing, taking a few seconds to step away from it completely, but when she had released her hold on the metal that had warmed under her grasp, Clark nodded for her to follow back inside. Hesitantly as though she was only just learning to walk, she obliged. As she stepped back in through the sliding door, Lois reached over and gave Claire's shoulder a gentle squeeze.

"You'll be fine," she said.

"Define fine," Claire retorted with a weak smirk, lingering for a moment before turning back to see that they were now joined by a man she did not yet recognize, with tanned skin and a thick beard.

"This is Arthur Curry," Diana spoke up first, keeping her voice low as though they were in the presence of a frightened deer who could run away at any provocation. "He's going to help you."

"I know a safe place. Somewhere you can be away from everyone," he said sternly. "Somewhere you can learn to live with your abilities in peace."

Her abilities. Claire grimaced slightly, feeling hard-pressed to see them as such even when she didn't even know their full extent. The realization dawned on her that they were going to take her away. Months ago, she had just been a nurse working a tiring job at the bottom of the totem pole, trying to make ends meet. Now, she was going to be whisked off to some mystery location, to learn to manage her abilities. It was wrong, her mind screamed out, but it was irreversible. There was no going back, only forward.

"Alright," she said feebly, her voice quavering. "I'll... I'll go."


	42. Chapter 42

Two days. Arthur Curry knew that his report that it had been two days since Claire Branigan had gotten out of the small cabana-like structure where they had set her up to stay would not be warmly received. If she had shown any signs of accepting her departure from Metropolis, they seemed to be gone now. The woman was despondent, and Arthur felt comfortable concluding that she hadn't spoken a word since they'd arrived to the small sanctuary island a good way from the coast of the island of Saint Lucia.

The first day was understandable. The second was questionable. As much as he admittedly felt a pang of pity for the girl, who was only here at all because she had made a very brave sacrifice, Arthur had also not been tasked with standing idly by as she wasted away. He had given her two days to grieve.

Now it was time for her to act. Bruce Wayne and the others had sent him to accompany her to this island with sufficient provisions, and Arthur carried with him a sleek wetsuit - more for her comfort than anything else, he presumed. He walked into her small cabana and tossed it to her when he spotted her sitting at the edge of her bed. Somewhat awkwardly, she caught the garment and looked back at Arthur with confusion.

"Get changed," he said coarsely before walking out and closing the curtain that served as her front door.

Reluctantly, Claire looked down at the wetsuit and gently sighed. She supposed it was unavoidable. She hadn't come here to go on a vacation and she knew that eventually, she would need to do something - but it didn't mean she was happy about it. She gently slipped off her shirt, sparing a glance at her own torso where the impact of being healed by the Mother Box had taken the most noticeable effect.

The tattoo on her ribcage, previously in black ink, was now metallic much like Victor's limbs - it was warm to the touch, and because the lines were so thin, hardly felt different than her own skin. To Claire, however, it was an indelible mark of a choice that could never be unmade. She quickly pulled the wetsuit on over her torso, determined not to look at the mark for longer than she needed to. For so long, that tattoo had meant something - it had been a reminder of everything she had pushed herself to be. Now, it was only a symbol of everything she was forced to be. It was a mark of powerlessness.

Finally, with her arms crossed over herself, Claire stepped out of the cabana to where Arthur stood facing the water's edge. He glanced back over his shoulder and nodded for her to approach. "Get in," he said, nodding in the direction of the water as she came within earshot without him having to speak louder than he would have wanted to. Claire blinked incredulously.

"I don't swim."

"You do now."

Claire stood at the water's edge, grimacing into the shallows with her arms crossed over her chest. It was beautiful here - she was sure that she had never seen waters so clear or breathed air so fresh - but it didn't change the fact that this was a place she didn't think she even belonged in.

"No one told me -"

"They told you that you'd learn to use your abilities here, and you will," Arthur said sternly, leaving no room for negotiation. "The first step is to understand that there is more to strength than moving mountains with your bare hands."

"I can do that?"

"I don't know, can you?" he asked, his expression growing only more stony the more Claire insisted on interrupting. "In order for you to learn how to use your strength, you have to realize that it is not just in your hands. Your strength changes the way you move through the world around you. You have to keep control. So..."

His voice trailed off, and he hoisted Claire up off the ground with relative ease, practically throwing her forward into the water where the shallows dropped off into deeper seas, the yelp of surprise she attempted to let out cut off by the fact that she hit the water. He swam in after her and caught up to her treading water with a very sour expression.

"What the hell was that?"

"The beginning of your training," Arthur said, paying no heed to her annoyance at having been literally thrown head first into her new training. "Now, try to keep up."

Before she could protest, he had submerged himself underwater and swam off, leaving Claire to try and follow.

It was a clumsy effort at first - he had not been joking when he'd said that her every movement would feel different now. Every stroke and kick prepared her a little farther than she'd expected in the clear waters, every turn was more awkward than it perhaps ought to have been. The most surreal realization, however, was that she was not feeling tired in the least and only needed to stop for the purposes of getting air at the surface. This, however, was a major advantage that Arthur Curry had on her. It dawned on her that he was going easy on her, and this realization caused a strange sense of agitation to stir inside her. She didn't want pity. She didn't want people to go on easier on her. When she got back under the water, still flailing awkwardly and unable to control her movements as well as she wanted to, she also found herself moving more consciously - more purposefully.

After a good while, Claire felt a shift in the way she moved her limbs, the way every shift in the current seemed to elicit a single response from her entire body rather than from each part individually. The fact remained, however, that she had fallen behind Arthur, following only vague trails of bubbles left in his wake and hoping that she caught up with him as she went further and further out to sea. Claire was finally beginning to feel the fatigue in her arms and legs, much later than she knew she should have, when she arrived at a sand bar a good way out into the open ocean.

Claire allowed herself to rest on the damp, clean sand, taking in deep breaths of the light and salty air in hungry gulps. It was a few moments before somewhere along the beach, she realized that she could hear other voices speaking. She got to her feet and walked towards the sound, creeping quietly to see if this was where Arthur Curry had ended up.

"You brought one of them this close to our home, Arthur? To our kingdom?" a female voice asked with evident anger. "If you want to continue being town between two worlds, that is your choice, but you have no right to put our home at risk because you can't decide -"

"The girl is no risk," Arthur said sternly. Claire crept closer to the sound of the voices, looking over a jutted out rock hesitantly to see Arthur Curry speaking with a tall blonde woman whose face, while beautiful, was so severely displeased that Claire recoiled slightly at the sight of her. When the woman's gaze flitted directly towards Claire, however, she found herself wide-eyed, holding her breath in suspense until the woman spoke again.

"Come closer," the woman said to Claire, who sheepishly complied and walked over until she was a short distance away from Arthur and the woman. "Do you know who I am?"

"N-no, ma'am," Claire stammered, immediately regretting sounding so terrified and vulnerable. Wasn't that the first rule of these kinds of interactions? Never show your weaknesses. The response, however, seemed to somehow placate the woman who reached out and placed a hand with a slight grip on Claire's shoulder.

"My name is Mera. Queen of Atlantis," she said simply. "And you are dangerously near my home."

"Shit," Claire said, her eyes widening even more. "I am so sorry, Ma'am. Your Highness. I'm definitely not here to cause any trouble, I'm just here because - because -"

It dawned on Claire that she wasn't quite sure why she was here at all. To learn how to control powers she didn't even want? Would that even be an acceptable answer? Surely, Claire convinced herself, it was far too much information to provided someone she had only just met, especially when that someone was royalty who most likely had much bigger things to worry about.

"Surely you're far from your own home," Mera interrupted, seeing Claire's inability to easily answer the question. "And you seem... afraid."

"I think I just naturally look this terrified when I have no idea what's going on," Claire said with a nervous laugh. It was awful, she decided, how undignified she looked compared to queen of an entire kingdom. It seemed distant and foreign now to think Lex had convinced her she was some kind of queen in Metropolis when really, she was still the little urchin from the South Side that she'd always been. Strangely, however, this too seemed to bring Mera some level of appeasement. She glanced at Arthur with a slightly softened expression, giving him a slight nod.

"Teach her well," Mera said simply as she removed her hand from Claire's shoulder. "And keep her where she belongs. She may not be a threat, but Atlantis does not belong to her kind."

And before Claire could offer any reassurance that she had no desire to encroach upon anyone else's home - that she had practically had to be pried kicking and screaming from her own - Mera had already returned into the sea, out of sight.

"You're not a very fast swimmer," Arthur pointed out as thought the exchange hadn't happened at all. Claire retorted with a slight roll of her eyes.

"You're lucky I passed for a swimmer at all."

At this, Arthur's expression, like Mera's, seemed to soften a bit - not into a smile, but no longer quite as intense of a glare. "You'll learn."

* * *

"Dave, Dave, Dave," Lex said into the phone receiver he had perched against his shoulder, steadied by his cheek as he entered an authorization code into the keyboard in front of him before propping his feet up. He looked up into the screen, the face illuminated by the bluish tinge of the computer running the startup commands. "I take it you got the plans I sent you?"

"Arrived last night, Mister Luthor."

"Perfect," Lex said in a near-chirp. "I was worried I'd need to try sending them to you by dolphin, and I don't fancy exploiting sea animals. You saw Blackfish, didn't you?" Lex chuckled to himself, though he paused when he noted after a couple of seconds that David did not seem to be as amused. Some people, Lex realized, were simply all business... and that was fine by him. "So, do you think you can meet those specs? I have very particular needs for this piece of technology."

"It'll take time," David spoke over the phone. "But I think I can design what you're looking for. You just need to have to facilities to manufacture it."

"Oh, trust me," Lex said with a smirk, looking up into the bluish light of the screen as the plans he had been working on loaded up. "If you can dream it, I can build it."

And with no further comment, Lex hung up the phone and slid it away across the metal table of his control room - the inner sanctum of computers and plans where he had taken Claire not long ago.

But Lex sneered slightly. He could think about her now. He couldn't wonder, because wondering would make him weak and weakness was the last thing he could afford. With a little more force than necessary, he clicked on a new file, which pulled up a scan of an article from the day's Daily Planet.

_The Planet Welcomes Back Clark Kent._

No, Lex decided with a bitter sneer. Welcoming back Clark Kent was the last thing this planet was going to do. _  
_


	43. Chapter 43

"I thought you were no longer in the business of caring about aliens, Luthor," Leonard Snart said, standing a few paces back while Lex stood at the bow of the small boat they were taking out to one of the abandoned research facilities owned by LexCorp - an island out in the vast expanse of sea where they had given Black Manta free range to do his research.

"Ah, I am no longer prioritizing the plight of these aliens," Lex said, gesturing off to the side with a wag of his index finger but not turning around to face Leonard. He remained at the railing of the ship, looking out in the direction of their destination. "But this particular instance is nigh irresistible."

Lex pulled a device out from the pocket of his coat - a wool coat heavier than those he usually wore, due to the chill from the sea air they were sailing through. It was about the size of a regular smartphone, but thicker with a larger screen that had a map illuminated in bright green. "This," Lex said, finally pivoting slightly so Leonard could get a view of the screen, "is a personal project of mine. It tracks wireless signals, energy signatures, radioactivity - all of the good stuff," he said with a smirk. "And this," he gently tapped on the screen where an apparent land mass was illuminated in red, "is where we're headed. A verifiable hot zone."

"You have a superpowered generator on that island, Luthor, that's hardly surprising."

"That's not the fun part - you are impatient, Lenny," Lex said with a half-sneer, half-smirk. "The fun part is that this unidentified homing signal," Lex said, tapping on a blue line on the screen originating from a nondescript point in the ocean map, "has been inching closer and closer to my facility for the better part of the last two weeks. Something's tracing our island - which, by the way, is growing hotter. Probably about to explode," Lex said with a nonchalant shrug of his shoulders.

"Explode?" Leonard asked in a near bark. "You're going to allow the island to explode with the Manta -"

"Don't be silly," Lex interrupted. "I take good care of my staff. I advised David to relocate to a different facility days ago. He's meeting us back here to investigate - I take good care of my employees," he smirked, which gained a brief eyeroll from Leonard but not much more. Undeterred, Lex wrung his cold hands slightly before continuing. "I'm interested in the fact that the island has only been getting hotter since then - since this signal has been getting closer," Lex explained. "So you and I are going to play detective. It'll be fun, Lenny. Don't you trust me?"

"You're too smart for that to be anything but a rhetorical question, Mister Luthor."

"Clever," Lex said with another smirk in Leonard's direction, though something about just saying the word brought a strange twinge of something akin to pain. Lex shook it off quickly. "I assure you. This is going to be quite the game, Lenny. Just you wait."

* * *

"Training's cancelled."

Claire had grown accustomed to something of a routine on the island, even if only because Arthur Curry was adamant that it remain this way - daylight hours were for training, because utilizing them otherwise was a waste. So, hearing him speak the words that training was in fact cancelled for the day left Claire with an unshakeable sense of worry.

"What's going on?"

"Nothing. You're going to stay here -"

"And do what?" Claire retorted. "Arthur, something is going on, and if you don't tell me what it is, then I'll just have to follow you."

With a frown, Arthur regarded the young woman and noted her resolve. He had planned on leaving her out of this, but it was evident that one way or another she would find a way to get involved or get herself into very bad trouble trying. She could, he concluded, be useful without knowing exactly what was happening. There were things, after all, that he had kept her in the dark about for the better part of four months now. The weather had changed, and so had she. She could handle a little responsibility. If there was anything that anyone had learned about Claire Branigan, after all, it was that she coped very poorly with being kept in the dark.

"There's an unidentified power source a few hundred miles from here," Arthur said, crossing his sinewy arms over his chest and tilting his head upward. "We don't know anything about it except that it seems to be growing by the day. It's disrupting the currents, ruining the catch of the fishing villages in the North. It could be nothing, but we can afford no risks, knowing what we do about what is coming for our world."

What is coming for our world. Hearing it phrased this way made it more painfully real that none of this was a dream - and even now after months, the reminder that things would never be the same again still struck Claire with a twinge of pain every time. However, along with that pain came the reminder that her own pain was the least of anyone's worries.

"Are you coming, then?"

Claire's ability to keep up with Arthur Curry was still limited, but had no doubt improved over the span of a few months of training - she had never been much of a swimmer to begin with, but her newfound strength had made it less of a chore, to be certain. However, across the vast distance the traveled over which she had spent a great deal of time simply chasing the trail of bubbles left in Arthur's wake, even someone with super strength was bound to feel some level of fatigue. Practically dragging herself onto the shore of a much colder, greyer island, Claire panted a few times to catch her breath while Arthur got to his feet.

"You'll find there was a reason I was reluctant to have you tag along," he said with a nod into the distance, where a wind turbine stood atop a building hidden deep in the brush. On the side of the turbine was the familiar LexCorp logo, which gave Claire a moment's pause. Arthur clapped a hand on her shoulder to rouse her from her thoughts. "It's not too late to go back."

"Go back for what?" Claire scoffed with feigned nonchalance. "We're here, aren't we? What's the plan?"

"Something on this island is the energy source I told you about," Arthur said, his voice stiff with the knowledge that he was not telling Claire the whole story. "We find it, we shut it down before the villages in the North miss the window for a decent catch this season. If the fish steer clear of their shores, they starve."

Claire gulped audibly, crossing her arms over herself - partially from a chill at the thought of a whole village starving and partially, she could admit, from the fact that it actually was fairly cold here. So this, she thought to herself, was what went into being a superhero. She allowed herself a small chuckle at the surrealness of considering herself a superhero of all things, but didn't waste too much time of the frivolity before starting to trudge into the rocky treeline. As she walked, however, she felt herself jolted off balance by the shaking of the ground around them. Holding onto a jutted out tree limb for support, Claire turned back towards Arthur with a questioning, 'what-the-hell' expression - earthquakes had not been a part of the briefing.

"I forgot to mention that the entire island is unstable, didn't I?" Arthur asked with a shadow of an expression similar to a smirk - this in and of itself was perhaps a bigger surprise than the surprise quake. Claire hadn't realized that Arthur Curry was capable of joking, even in such a miniscule way. Shaking off the surprise, Claire trudged on into the cover of the trees and towards the center of the island where the LexCorp turbine was located.

Walking right into something that was probably dangerous. Claire rolled her eyes at herself a little - it felt absurd. She wasn't a hero. She wasn't even someone like Lois Lane. She was a nurse who was in over her head with no way of getting out. She huffed as she walked along the path, overgrown and muddy, shaking her head gently to herself. "You know, I don't know what you expect me to be able to do, Arthur. Use my semi-super strength to punch the lights out of it?" Claire asked with a sardonic lilt. No response. Apparently, the moment of candor on Arthur's part was only fleeting. With a brief grimace, Claire looked back over her shoulder, only to find that he was nowhere to be seen. Stopping so that the sloshing of her steps and the snapping of twigs was silenced, she heard the sound of voices in the direction she had come from.

"This island's not going to hold much longer, Manta," Claire heard Arthur's voice roar loudly, followed by the sound of a loud crash. "This fight is not for today -"

"Our quarrel chooses no time or place, Your Highness," an unfamiliar voice growled, and while Claire's initial reaction was to turn back to help, she also remembered that Arthur Curry was not one to be forgiving of distractions. Just then, another tremor rattled the ground, sending Claire dropping to her knees in the mud until the shaking subsided. Her lip curled in disgust and determination as she got to her feet, darting further towards the center of the island and not stopping until in the distance - now faint because how far she had run - she heard the same unfamiliar voice one more time. "You're getting in the way, Luthor!"

Luthor. Lex Luthor was on this island. Claire could swear that she felt the blood drain from her face and her hands as she again froze in place. Of course he would be here. It shouldn't have been a surprise, she briefly thought to herself. This was his facility, literally at the center of some kind of geological anomaly, it shouldn't have been unexpected and yet here she was, feeling strangely cold and sick to her stomach. But there was no time for this now. Now, with Arthur Curry occupied, she was the only one left to get the job done. She inhaled deeply and, ignoring her shaking hands, again started running off down the path until she reached the center of the island.

She found that here, the ground was already jagged and uneven - the fence that should have stood in the way had already sunk into the mud so that it would hardly serve as a barrier at all. Glancing around, Claire looked for the tree closest to the fence that looked the sturdiest and somewhat awkwardly climbed up. She noted to herself briefly that kids from the South Side of Metropolis very rarely did much tree climbing, which she felt should have excused her from doing this with any amount of grace. Still, she managed to make her way to an overhanging limb and leap to the other side of the fence, landing with a squelch in the mud. Claire allotted herself a brief moment of pride at having made it before extracting her feet from the sludge and making her way into the building at the base of the turbine.

It was dark inside when she kicked in the door - the ease with which she could do these things still surprised her, even if she'd had months to acclimate. Claire was unsure if it would ever feel completely normal to her. However, despite the lack of lights from the dusted-over industrial lights lining the ceiling, there was still a telltale whir from the generator in the corner. As she moved to the take another step towards it, however, there was yet another tremor that shook the ground. This one, despite being stronger and more violent than the ones before it, didn't manage to throw Claire off of her feet though it now managed to make the windows of the building shatter. As it subsided after a good ten seconds, however, it was only moments before a loud crash outside caused Claire to take a a leap backwards as she saw one of the large trees outside, apparently dislodged by the shaking, tilt slowly and ominously until it reached a critical tipping point, collapsing onto the fence outside and falling just short of the building itself.

They were here just in time - perhaps even too late.

Claire took another breath and moved across the room to the generator with a newfound sense of urgency, feeling underneath her feet that now, it almost felt like the ground had not calmed completely. Where was Arthur? What the hell was she supposed to do now? The thought from outside returned to her mind.

She might just need to literally punch this thing's lights out.

Claire raised her hands and held them in front of her, scanning over the exterior of the generator and trying to find some weak point. She glanced over it until her eyes came to rest on a seam where two sheets of steel met. Gripping her fingers right at this area, she felt a strange sense of hesitation at using her strength. Was this her lot now? If it was, acceptance was likely the only painless way to go about this.

With a groan of exertion, Claire's eyes clenched shut as she pulled apart the steel at the seems, revealing the vulnerable, intertwined wires and innards of the machine. The whirring now louder as the inside of the machine was exposed, Claire reached in and briefly imagined herself getting electrocuted the way cartoon characters did as she ripped out a handful of wires, then another, then a circuit board and other components, casting them aside over her shoulder until the whirring faded away like a slow death. As the energy from the machine died, so too did the rumbling beneath her feet. She then hoisted up the panel of steel that she'd torn from the front of the machine and carried it with some strain outside, looking up into the still spinning blades of the turbine over the building. With another groan, she hurled the sheet of metal at the blades, dropping to one knee as it flew through the air and just barely made its mark.

There was a loud grating noise, then a rumbling, and Claire realized just in time that she needed to start running - she vaulted away over the destroyed area of fence where the tree had fallen on it and made it away just in time to avoid the sudden volley of flame that erupted from the LexCorp turbine. She fell over herslef back onto the path she had been walking just a short while earlier. Gaining her bearings, however, Claire realized that even as the rumblings of the explosion subsided the rumbling in the ground beneath her had started again. Her expression was clearly puzzled and a little bit terrified as she came to realize whatever the damage was, it was already done - and destroying the power source on the island may just have made it worse. They had to get out. Steadying herself on her feet, Claire darted back down a muddy path, though she couldn't be sure it was the same that she had taken before, as her footsteps hadn't lasted long in the sopping wet mud.

Claire managed to stay on her feet as she dashed and vaulted down the path, feeling almost as though she could see the trees shuddering and threatening to fall as their roots failed to keep a hold of the muddy, soft ground. Claire could see in the shrinking distance where the trees thinned out at the end of the path and was determined to make it until the sound of a thud and a familiar voice yelping in pain reached her ears. Lex.

Almost as though she couldn't control the direction of her own feet, Claire found herself pivoting off of the path she was walking, off into the trees towards the sound of the voice. She whacked away branches with her forearms, determined to reach her destination. Finally, though the view was obstructed by the undergrowth, Claire saw someone on the ground ahead of her, having gotten stuck in a tangle of mud and roots - and close by, a large, old tree like the one back at the facility, slowly tilting as its roots tried and failed to stay anchored in the muddy ground.

Willing her legs to carry her fast enough, Claire hurtled forward as she watched the tree slowly tip to one side, again reaching the certain point where its fall began to accelerate. Gritting her teeth and straining against the sticking of the mud, Claire tore over the ground and made it just in time to slide underneath the falling tree and stop it with her hands. She shook under the weight, having never yet taken on such a weight, and made a pained groan as she hurled it away in the opposite direction. She panted and forced herself to her feet as the trunk of the tree took out a few in its wake, revealing a shorter way to a clearer path out. She had half the mind not to turn around and see who she had just saved - because she already knew and because she didn't want the confirmation. However, against her better judgment perhaps, she turned and felt her breath catch in her chest as she saw Lex in the mud, his leg tangled and stuck. She wordlessly walked over and bent down, gripping the thick, appendage-like tree root that kept him stuck and ripping it out of the ground.

Almost simultaneously, looking at one another with oddly blank expressions, both Lex and Claire got back to their feet.

And, so unexpectedly that it made Claire flinch slightly, Lex's first reaction was to give a small chuckle, shaking is head and taking a few steps so that he could circle Claire slightly like he'd done so many times before.

"Now," he said, gesturing with his index finger, "it all makes sense."

"I didn't know how to tell you," Claire said honestly, seeing that the color had drained from his face and realizing she very likely looked just the same. "I didn't know what would happen if you knew I was one of them -"

But again, Lex interrupted with a high-pitched, nasal sound that Claire knew was meant to be a laugh. He clucked his tongue, and Claire felt herself growing antsy at the fact that this was not the time. She had to get away from this island - they both did - but she somehow couldn't. Lex simply continued circling, though his steps were more exaggerated as he was forced to trudge through the mud, and shoved his hands into the pockets of his muddied coat. "Claire," he said, finally pausing and turning to face her, leaning so that he face was closer to hers. "Just because you can do that doesn't make you one of them."

The statement should have been relieving, but it filled Claire with a cold sense of dread. Where was the response she had been preparing to receive for months when this day came? Where was the outrage and the terror? She found herself shaking a little bit more, stammering to try and respond to no avail. Lex looked at her with a slight sneer, shaking his head.

"What did they tell you?"

"They said it wasn't safe for you to know," Claire admitted, feeling weaker despite her show of strength from just moments earlier. "They - they told me that I couldn't -"

"That you were one of them?" Lex asked derisively. "That you couldn't go home?"

"Metropolis... isn't my home anymore," Claire said weakly, suddenly aware of the rumbling of the ground below her and the way it strained her already weak knees. They had to get out of here, she knew, but she couldn't move. She was dazed, snapped out of the spell only when Lex spoke again.

"It doesn't matter what corner of the globe they take you to, Claire," Lex said over the growing rumble of the self-destructing island, seemingly unfazed by the din around them. "Metropolis will always be where you land."

Claire knew she should move - she knew that the island was unstable and that every moment lost was a moment farther from safety. Still, she could not bring herself back to this reality until the sound of her name spoken by another voice roared over the tumult interrupted.

"Claire!" Arthur's voice roared from just beyond the treeline in the space that Claire had managed to clear. "Get out of there!"

"It looks like you're being summoned, milady. I'll be seeing you. Soon, I suspect," Lex said with a smirk and a cocksure tilt of his head before running off in a different direction. Jarred by the surreal calm of the moment, it took Claire a moment before she could gain her bearings and run off towards the sound of Arthur's voice.

It was only when they were back on the safety of the sanctuary island that this flurry of thoughts seemed to coalesce into resolve of what Claire wanted to happen next. She hadn't expected to see Lex Luthor again. Not now. Not any time in the near future. But it had happened, and even in such a brief, seconds-long encounter, it left Claire with the sense that she had been duped. This was not the way she been told it would go - the way she believed it would go. This fiasco of a revelation that she had left home to avoid had not even been a reality, and it left Claire with a strange sense of bitterness.

"I need to talk to Bruce Wayne," she said sternly as she treated a small scrape on her arm, looking up only briefly at Arthur who watched her with concern, having noticed the change in her demeanor since their return. "Can you reach him?"

Arthur bristled, knowing that this meant something. What it meant, he was not yet sure, except that due to Lex Luthor's reentry in the picture, it meant things were going to change.


	44. Chapter 44

Claire admittedly felt a bit shaky getting off of a boat for the first time in months, since she'd first taken one to the island where she had been training.

It was also the first time in months that she knew exactly where she was - she, followed by Arthur Curry, disembarked the boat sent by Bruce Wayne and stepped onto the soil of a private dock in the Netherlands.

"I ask to have a conversation with the guy and we have to make an overseas trip," Claire said snippily, holding onto the rail as they descended and attempting to look more balancing and less nauseous than she actually felt. "Go figure. I don't know if I've ever met a bigger diva in my life."

"Of course," Arthur said brusquely. "He wouldn't have come to us. Mister Wayne can't properly brood on a white sand beach on a tropical island."

Claire had been around Arthur enough at this point to know that despite his dry tone, this was a joke. Or, perhaps, it was half a joke - he never seemed to have completely accepted Bruce Wayne as someone to take seriously. Regardless, Claire walked down the dock, but let out a small groan when she realized there was a figure waiting there to greet them who was not Bruce Wayne at all.

"What is this, some kind of welcome-back-to-civilization party?" Claire asked with a dry smirk at the sight of Diana Prince in front of her. The statuesque woman held out a thick coat, which Claire accepted happily and immediately pulled on her shoulders. "Not that it isn't a hoot to see you, but I came here to see -"

"Bruce is waiting for you," Diana said with a slight sigh of her own. "But you know how he is - paranoid as ever. He thinks he may be recognized out here. Come with me."

Diana placed a hand on Claire's shoulder and directed her towards the car parked a short walk away before turning to great Arthur with a nod. "She's in good hands now. Thank you."

"She's different now. You can see it," Arthur said, his eyes darting briefly to Claire before coming back to Diana. "I don't suspect Mister Wayne will find her nearly as malleable as before - she'll be far less easy to fit to whatever he has planned. He won't be able to manipulate her so easily."

"He's assured me that he doesn't intend to do any manipulating this time, my friend."

"That sounds familiar, doesn't it?" Arthur asked dryly before turning and walking back to the edge of the dock, then diving artfully back into the sea. Diana gave a slight groan and pinched the bridge of her nose. There were times, she had to admit, that it didn't seem very much like they were forming a team at all. But they would _need_ to, if things continued as they had been - if new threats and new questions continued to arise. This was why she had walked away from the world of men - their fickle, divided nature, their tendency towards war and brutality. And now, here she was, relying on better from them.

Shaking off the disdain, Diana turned to follow Claire to the car and got into the backseat with her, only to find that the driver of the car had already engaged her in conversation.

"That's bad ass," Barry chuckled, having apparently already squeezed some extent of an update out of a very tired-looking Claire who was now looking surprisingly comfortable in the back seat while she spoke with him - the first _normal_ conversation she was likely to have had in months. "Like, Rocky training sequence bad ass."

"I don't think it was anything like that," Claire chuckled sheepishly. "But it was... an interesting few months."

"So now what?" Barry asked just as Diana was closing her door. "Do you... do you stay out there still? Come back?"

"That's what she and Bruce are here to discuss," Diana interrupted, cutting off the potentially awkward response. She turned to look at Claire, and as expected, the woman's expression had very clearly soured. "Mister Wayne is troubled."

"I'm hoping he has a stronger explanation for me than that," Claire said shortly, leaning back in her seat and crossing her arms over herself.

"Hey," Barry said as they began making their way down the road. "You know, Mister Wayne's been putting in a lot of work. It's been rough. I don't think he's really got this whole teamwork thing down just yet, but I think he always does what he thinks is the right thing."

At this, Claire felt her iciness melt away slightly - Barry Allen had a way of dissipating tension even if only for the mere fact that he had such a boyish charm about him. In any case, it was enough to stop the awkward trajectory of the conversation and allow the car ride to continue mostly in silence until they pulled into a nearby town. Barry pulled the car up in front of a pub and inn, glancing over between Claire and Diana. "This the right place?"

"It is," Diana nodded graciously before looking back at Claire. "Bruce will be waiting for you inside. He thought it would be less overwhelming if the two of you spoke alone."

"Good of him to suddenly decide to care what I'd find overwhelming," Claire said with a slight sneer before opening the car door. "Thanks. I guess."

The walk from the car into the pub was just long enough to allow Claire to feel her insides beginning to writhe and twist and sear in a mixture of emotions. Anxiety. Anticipation. Readiness to let Bruce Wayne finally get an earful of what was coming to him. However, as she got inside and immediately saw the older man in all black seated alone at a table at the far corner of the pub, she couldn't help but note how much older he looked now, just a few months after she had last seen him. She walked slowly but steadily in the direction of the table and placed her hand on the chair across from him to get his attention.

"So," she said with an irk of her eyebrows as Bruce looked up from his seat at her. "Where are the cameras this time, Mister Wayne?"

"No cameras," he said - and even his voice, at this point, sounded wearied and rusted. "Please. Sit down."

At this, Claire blinked incredulously. Please? This had to have been the first time in her recollection that he'd actually made a request of her - not a demand or an order, but a request. Dumbstruck, she took a seat and again crossed her arms over herself. This, she realized, was uncharted territory. Things were different. They were different.

"So, I heard you've been doing -"

"I don't want to talk about how I've been doing, Mister Wayne," Claire interrupted. "I don't want to have a chat over whatever you're drinking and catch up on things. I want to know why I've spent months on a desert island trying to avoid a danger that wasn't even real -"

"They told me you and Luthor ran into each other," Bruce said, spark finally returning to his demeanor when the time came to discuss Lex Luthor's role in all this. "And I don't know what he said to you, but -"

"You took me away from my home because you said he'd be afraid of me!" Claire said, the volume of her voice remaining low, but her expression showing her outrage at the feeling of having been manipulated. "You said it would destroy him, that we'd all be in danger and that it was a risk we couldn't take."

"And now that we don't have eyes on him anymore, we don't know what that risk is anymore," Bruce said through gritted teeth. "That's the thing about risks, Claire. They aren't guarantees. You're smart enough to know that, I think."

"Save it," Claire said sourly, shaking her head. "All I want to know now is what happens to me. I did what I said I would. I learned to how to control my abilities on that island, and I don't want to go back."

"And I won't make you. I'm going to make things right. I made deals with you that I plan on keeping, because regardless of what bad blood we may have, we're better off as allies than enemies," Bruce explained evenly. "If you want to come back to Metropolis, you can come back to Metropolis. But you know as well as I do that your life can't go back to what it was."

Before Claire could protest any further, Bruce Wayne reached over to the leather suitcase he had on the ground next to him and produced a folded copy of the Daily Planet, sliding it across the table to Claire. Emblazoned across the front page was a photo of large flatbed trucks in the back loading bay of LexCorp Headquarters, all bearing large objects covered in large tarps and drapes. The headline over the photo read, _Something Luthor This Way Comes_.

If that wasn't a Lois Lane headline, Claire thought with a fondness that she found surprising, she didn't know what was.

"He's been working on something. We don't have intel on what that might be, but it's been ever since you disappeared - and the day after the incident at the LexCorp island site, he's been moving ahead full steam," Bruce said. "He's got something up his sleeve, and I don't think he's as stable as you're making him out to be."

"I never said he was," Claire said, her voice quiet as she stared down at the newspaper, her brain churning and grinding away in vain as she attempted to piece together in her mind what Lex in fact could be doing. "But I don't see -"

"Look. I'm trying to make things right here," Bruce said, finally finding himself growing frustrated with Claire's obstinance. "And I think the last thing you want is to end up getting sucked into another plan that you didn't ask to be a part of. Because that's what this is," Bruce sneered, somewhat harshly slamming his palm down on the newspaper sitting on the table between them. "I don't know what the plan is yet, but Lex Luthor is planning something. And I don't think he's the only one. I think there's trouble coming, and I need my team to be ready," he finished vaguely. For the first time, however, Claire had the weird feeling that Bruce Wayne included her in the statement - in his team. "I told you, we're going to make things right, but I need time. I'm going to set you up temporarily in Central City, get things squared away. And then we'll get you set up back in Metropolis. We're going to make sure you get to go home, but I need time," he repeated. "Can you give me that?"

"So now you're asking for permission? Now, I have a choice? Now that I'm one of them, like Diana? Like Barry?" Claire asked, though much of the edge had dissolved from her voice. "Not that I'm not grateful that you've come to your senses and all, but where was my choice when I was just a person?"

"I thought we were on the same page here, Claire," Bruce said, pouring a little more malt liquor into the emptied scotch glass in front of him and taking a healthy swig. "You always had a choice."

Claire gave a slightly bitter chuckle, scratching the back of her neck gently and pushing her hair off to one side. "Right," she conceded.

"I'm going to make sure you get your life back," Bruce said, sensing her skepticism in his ability to remain true to his word. It wasn't as though he could blame the younger woman - Bruce Wayne did not necessarily consider himself a man of his word either. "In whatever way I can."

"I'll believe _that_ ," Claire said, "when I see it."


	45. Chapter 45

Metropolis in the springtime was something that Claire Branigan couldn't help but appreciate. It was not a city of trees or of seasons or greenery - there were none of the usual signs of spring that one might expect. But the way the clouds parted and the sun shone, bouncing between monolithic steel buildings and glass-paned highrises, gave the city a brightness even in its darkness parts, let alone the gleaming uptown where a dark-windowed sedan passed through the streets towards Wayne Tower.

"I could get used to this chauffeur thing. Kinda nice," Barry chuckled, glancing over at the passenger seat at Claire, who stared around her home city as though she had never seen it before. "Get me a spiffy hat. Fun accent. I hear Uber pays well."

Claire laughed absentmindedly, still staring out the window. The whirlwind of the last few months seemed to finally be settling, and as the dust settled, it revealed a Metropolis that glinted and gleamed even more than before.

Bruce Wayne, Claire would concede, deserved credit at least this one time for being good to his word. After their meeting, he had promptly set Claire up in a temporary condo in Central City to let her finish preparing for her nurse practitioner exam - so she would have a fighting chance at starting over, he told her. And now that she had passed her exam and was fully licensed, it seemed like things were finally starting to return to some kind of normalcy.

"This is our stop," Barry said as he pulled up in the front lot of Wayne Towers. "I think everyone should be here waiting for you."

"I'm staying here?" Claire asked skeptically. "Isn't it a little... conspicuous?"

"Well, you're not in hiding or anything," Barry shrugged as they each got out of the car and walked into the front entrance. "You weren't expecting Mr. Wayne to have you living in the sewers, Ninja Turtle Style, were you?" Claire begrudgingly chuckled at the question and shrugged while she followed Barry into the building, through the main lobby, and into the elevator, only to have Barry pause as the doors closed and stare down at the panel of buttons before letting out a short string of mutters. He gave a groan as he pulled his phone out of his pocket. "Pick up, pick up." Claire quickly piece together the situation, and the corners of her lips curled upward as she held back a chuckle.

"You forgot what floor we're going to."

"I forgot what floor we're going to."

"Nice."

Claire finally let the laughter escape in a throaty guffaw, shaking her head as Barry managed to determine what floor he was supposed to be taking her too - the seventeenth - and got the elevator started up the shaft. There was still something so distinctly unreal about being back home, if this could even be considered home. Disembarking from the elevator and following Barry down the hall, Claire almost felt as though her limbs were not her own, carrying her down the hall to something she couldn't quite predict. He walked a few steps ahead of her and pulled a key out of his pocket, opening the door to reveal that Diana and Bruce were both already waiting inside of the bright, sunlit suite, already furnished as though Claire had moved in long ago. Granted, none of it was her stuff - it didn't occur to her that much of it was somewhere she hadn't the courage to set foot in just yet.

"I'm... I'm staying here?" Claire asked, taking a few hesitant steps inside and glancing around the living room, admittedly a little awestruck. "Mister Wayne, I really can't -"

"Bruce," he corrected with a shadow of a smirk. "I think we're there. And yes, you can."

Claire mirrored the expression with one side of her lips curling into a semi-smile and nodding, dropping her small duffel bag onto the ground with a dull thud. She took a few meandering steps across the room in silence while everyone looked on, gaging her reaction to her new home as though she were an injured bird who could fall out of the sky at any moment. Claire made her way to the sliding door and stepped out onto the small balcony, finding herself somewhat frozen by the view - first, because it was beautiful, and second, because it allowed her a particular view that couldn't have been anything but intentional. She felt her breath catch in her throat as she realized her balcony had a direct view of LexCorp Tower. She stared unblinkingly at the building for a few seconds, then back over her shoulder.

"We promised you would no longer feel like a prisoner," Diana spoke up, knowing that this kind of conversation was far from Bruce Wayne's strong point. "You're free to make whatever decision you please. You have the freedom to choose your own fate."

"Even if it's him," Bruce couldn't help but pipe in, knowing that it went without saying who he was referring to. Diana shot him a sharp look, but Claire responded with only a weak laugh, shaking her head.

"I don't know how to deal with all that right now," Claire admitted with a shrug of her shoulders. "I don't know if I'll ever know how to deal with it. But... thank you. This is too much, it really is."

"So I guess you're going to really flip out when they tell you that there's more."

"Barry," Bruce interrupted with a brief roll of his eyes, realizing that the younger man clearly had no concept of letting news marinate before springing more on someone. He waited only a moment before shrugging slightly and glancing back at Claire. "It's not so much news as it is keeping my word. Here," he said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out his phone, flicking casually to a photograph which he brandished in Claire's direction. She stepped back inside and took the phone from his hand hesitantly, seeing the outside of the newly-finished Metropolis Free Clinic in all of its sleek, modern glory. It took a moment for her eyes to fall on the plaque at the front of the building which bore her own name right next to that of Dr. Leslie Thompkins. Her eyes widened slightly and she looked up in disbelief.

"I told you a long time ago, I don't think I know anyone as qualified as you are to run the clinic. It's something that was important to my parents," Bruce said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a set of keys, which he held ouyt to her in exchange for his phone back. "And I'm trusting you with it. I'm not particularly good at extending olive branches, but I think this'll do."

"Olive branch," Claire chuckled, still stunned as she clenched the set of keys in her hand. "I think you're handing me the entire damn olive tree, Mister Wayne."

"Bruce."

"Whatever."

At this, a much less uneasy chuckle moved through the inhabitants of the room and it seemed a level of tension had been dissolved. Bruce tucked his phone away again and nodded. "We said you could start seeing patients on Monday, their files were transferred over and they're waiting for you whenever you're ready."

"You don't waste any time putting your friends to work, do you?" Claire asked wryly.

"He really doesn't," Barry piped in again with a lopsided grin. While Bruce mildly rolled his eyes, Diana was admittedly amused by the fact that the pair seemed to share a sense of comradery with one another - similar in age, same sense of humor. If anything, Diana had pointed out to Bruce multiple times, having someone more similar to herself in their midst would help keep Claire close to them.

"Would it be okay if I headed over there?" Claire asked, crossing her arms over herself and shifting her weight. "Gain my bearings a little, get ready for all of this? It's... a lot," she said honestly. "It's all good, but it's still a lot."

"Of course. Do you want a ride?" Bruce asked. "It's not far -"

"I can walk or take a cab or something. It's been a while since I've really had time to myself like this," Claire replied. There was a shared look between the others, and Claire had a fleeting sense of them doubting her - not distrusting her, but understandably unable to predict what she would do. However, with little spectacle, they agreed to bow out and check up on her another time after she'd had some time to get settled in her new surroundings. After they had gone, Claire changed into a clean set of clothes and paced around her new home for a few minutes before heading out the door again.

Walking down the streets of Metropolis on her own was far from new to her. This was where she had spent her entire life. This was still the same Metropolis, even if she no longer felt like the same Claire Branigan, and she took some level of comfort in that. Upon arriving at the front door of the brand new clinic and briefly tracing her fingertips over her name on the plaque for the first time, she stepped inside and felt herself exhale heavily.

It was real. She had been working towards this for so long - since her father had passed away - and now, she had finally gotten here. Even if she had arrived by means which still stung when she looked back on them, this was her dream. She slowly walked across the front lobby towards the front desk where, as promised, there was a stack of files belonging to her first batch of patients that she was going to see on Monday. All of the files belonged to mostly familiar faces - mostly children she had seen at the Gotham City clinic location what seemed like a lifetime ago.

The sight of the familiar faces brought a sense of urgency - these were the same kids who had come to trust her and Doctor Thompkins back in Gotham City. Now, she reminded herself as she opened the first file, she had to make sure she kept that trust. The first patient, she realized, had a laundry list of prescriptions for his severe asthma and recurring pneumonia that needed to be transferred over to a pharmacy in Metropolis. She picked up the phone and dialed the number.

"Hi, Claire Branigan, nurse practitioner at the Metropolis Wayne Memorial Clinic," she said, still feeling unfamiliar with the title slipping off of her tongue when she provided it to the pharmacist who answered the call. "I have a patient transferring to our network from the Gotham City office, and I just wanted to make sure that you were able to offer the generic medication at your pharmacy?"

"Of course," the pharmacist answered. "Name and date of birth?"

The call went on as many others did, and Claire provided all of the information the woman asked for just as she would any other time, preparing to have to negotiate on price to make sure the child received their medicine without costing an arm and a leg. However, Claire found herself surprised by the turn the conversation took instead.

"Unfortunately, we don't carry a generic form of that medication at our pharmacy," the pharmacist began.

"Is there any possibility of adjusting the price to be more comparable?" Claire asked. "I'd hate to transfer this family to a pharmacy farther from their home."

"Oh, absolutely," the pharmacist said brightly. "We don't carry a generic, but we do have the LexCorp formulation - it'll only cost about five dollars to fill the prescription."

"The... the LexCorp formulation, right," Claire said, recovering with a forced laugh to mask her disbelief. "That's great news. Thank you."

"Of course. Have a good one, Miss Branigan."

And as Claire went through the rest of the files to call the appropriate pharmacies, she found that almost every single pharmacy was still carrying the LexCorp formulations of medications - which could only mean that the pharmaceutical program she had started at LexCorp was still up and running, and that Lex hadn't dismantled it even in her absence. She found herself both relieved and unsettled, even on her way back to her suite at Wayne Towers, wondering what this meant and if it meant anything at all. Surely, she thought, it was just business. Surely it was just the most sound decision and best publicity possible for the company.

It was getting dark by the time she got back to the suite - back home - and she found herself wandering out to the balcony again to stare at the familiar shape of LexCorp Tower in the distance as thought it would give her some kind of answer. She leaned against the railing and stared blankly in the direction of the monolithic skyscraper until something caught her eye.

The light in the executive boardroom was on, and as Claire looked closer, she realized that there was a figure standing in the large bay window, staring out as well. It didn't take more than a second or two for Claire to realize, even without focusing on the figure themselves, that only one person would be lingering in the boardroom this late. She felt her breath hitch in her throat as it dawned on her that she and Lex were staring right at one another, distantly and wordlessly. She could see him easily now, and somehow she knew that he could most likely see her as well.

Awkwardly, Claire made the first move, raising her hand in a weak greeting before thinking better of it, turning around and going back inside.

All of this was something that could be figured out another day.


	46. Chapter 46

"Is this all that rich people do? Go to each other's parties?" Claire groaned, rolling her eyes as she and Barry walked up to the entrance of the Metropolis Grand Theatre lobby, which was hosting a Metropolis Young Professionals Gala that Bruce had insisted they needed to attend in order to gather intelligence.

In order to keep tabs on any impending threats in Metropolis, Bruce had reasoned with them, they needed a finger on the pulse - even if it meant attending every prominent event in the city. And, Bruce reasoned, he had no place attending an event for young professionals. So here they were.

"It's a shame, isn't it?" Barry asked as he and Claire made their way inside. "All this free food for the people in Metropolis who need it the least. It feels... very let-them-eat-cakey."

Claire snickered, shaking her head and bumping Barry with her shoulder good-naturedly. "So," she began, glancing around and realizing that they hadn't come up with a game plan for the evening. "Do we just... talk to anyone?"

"I was planning on following your lead," Barry shrugged honestly. "You're used to this kind of thing, aren't you?"

"I'm not used to doing this kind of thing alone," Claire said, her gaze shifting away briefly - just long enough for Barry to realize that he had touched upon a sore subject. Of course it was a sore subject - she had only started attending these kinds of events on the arm of Lex Luthor, and now that she no longer had that crutch, she seemed just as unsure as she would have been if this were her first time. However, this kind of vulnerability was still as uncomfortable as ever, and instinctively, Claire's eyes began scanning the room to find some escape, some means of changing the subject. Her reprieve came in the form of a group by the refreshment table wearing jackets bearing the Metropolis PD insignia.

"There you go!" Claire said brightly. "Cops! They should speak your language. Start there," she said matter-of-factly and nudging her elbow into Barry's side. "I'll figure something out. Don't worry about me."

"You sure?"

"I'm a big girl. With super strength," Claire said, adding the final bit in a low voice. "I think I'll be fine."

Claire shooed Barry off to go and mingle with a few individuals more his speed - though not literally - and lingered in the same spot for a moment before drifting towards the relatively uncrowded bar. If they were supposed to be getting information and getting people to talk, the pretty girl at the bar schtick was probably as good a strategy as any. In any case, it was better than unwittingly drifting into the wrong circle of people and being asked if she was that girl, the one who used to hang around Lex Luthor. Claire was capable of many things, many more thing, even, than she had been before - but that was a conversation she still felt completely unwilling to have.

Perhaps too lost in her thoughts about how much she wanted to avoid such a situation, Claire felt entirely unfocused on her surroundings until a scotch glass filled with a familiar-smelling, nearly golden liquid was slowly nudged towards her across the bartop.

"I didn't order this," Claire said hesitantly, though being a reasonably attractive woman her age alone at a bar, she felt reasonably certain what the explanation would be. "What is it?"

"Compliments of the man at the end of the bar," the bartender said with a wry grin. "Butterscotch Schnapps."

A flutter of a grin graced Claire's face, though only for a matter of seconds before she cleared her throat and regained her composure, glancing down the bar and feeling no surprise upon seeing Lex there. He smirked and tilted his head to one side, raising his own glass of the same drink. Claire rolled her eyes, realizing that of course the mere thought of Lex Luthor would somehow make him appear. Still, she allowed a small shadow of a grin on her lips, which as far as Lex was concerned was an open invitation. Taking his own drink in his hand, he walked down the bar to the open stool next to Claire, taking a seat and paying no mind to the eyes that now flitted in their direction. Claire, however, scoffed. The least they could do, she thought, was practice a little more discretion.

"Well, you waste no time before your first night on the town," Lex chirped matter-of-factly. "No time at all."

"I can think of plenty of places I'd rather be than here playing Super Spy," Claire said with a grimace, not thinking about what she was saying before taking a small swig from her drink. Lex's eyebrows piqued in interest, and he tilted his head to one side.

"Oh? Is that so?" he asked with feigned humor. "Your new boss keeping you on a short leash?"

"I'm not on a leash."

"Then leave with me," Lex shrugged simply - and something about the ease with which he suggested it washed over Claire suddenly, forcing her to clear her throat to keep from choking on her drink in surprise. He smirked and leaned in closer to Claire. "Unless you'd like to keep pretending that... things have changed."

"Things have changed."

"How?"

"You know how," Claire said, unable to help a twinge of exasperation and pain from seeping into her voice. "It's just not that simple anymore."

"I'd beg to differ, but since you're insisting on being delightfully mulish about it," Lex smirked, tilting his glass in her direction. "At least have a drink with me."

Claire sighed, her tongue running over the front of her teeth so her lower lip jutted out in a wordless show of her thoughts. That was what they were here for, wasn't it? To have drinks and talk and blend in? Perhaps it was a moment of weakness on her part, but it seemed as though it surely couldn't hurt.

Clearing her throat and giving a small, resigned nod, she picked up her glass again and took a drink.

"That's better," Lex chortled, reaching out and quickly tilting Claire's chin upward. "I was always under the impression that you hated these kinds of shindigs, Claire."

"Oh, I do. Believe me," she said with a snort that was almost unpretty in its derision. "Just as much as I always have."

"Even in the company of the ever-so-gregarious Barry Allen? I'm surprised," Lex said, his expression taking on a sour character that was more akin to a sneer. "You always were amused by him, weren't you?"

"He's my friend. He's in town more nowadays, and he's the closest friend I have in Metropolis ever since I've gotten back," Claire retorted, and Lex's eyes glinted in a strange kind of glee at her eagerness to nip his insinuation in the bud. He clucked his tongue and shook his head.

"So defensive," he taunted. "You have no reason to explain yourself to me, do you, Claire?"

"I..." Claire began quickly, but something about how quickly the intensity in the conversation built, even from Lex's simple taunting, stopped her midsentence so she could take a larger swig from her drink, draining the last of the contents in her glass. "I'm much too sober to be having a conversation like this."

Lex believed, now as much as ever, that a little bit of chaos looked good on Claire Branigan, and now as much as ever, he enjoyed making her sweat a little bit. It felt so much as though things had come full circle, resuming the cat-and-mouse quality of what seemed like an entire lifetime ago. It was still the same game, Lex concluded. The stakes were simply higher. Even knowing what had happened, what Claire was now, Lex felt a sort possessiveness over her - because she had been central to his return to power, and he saw her as some kind of good luck charm, some kind of talisman. Whatever good happened for him didn't happen without her.

So if that meant resorting to old games not to scare her off, then so be it. He gave a deceptively boyish smirk as he gestured for the bartender to refill her glass, to which she responded with an almost comically relieved groan before immediately taking another drink.

Claire, on her part, couldn't easily decide how to navigate the waters of being around Lex Luthor again. Regardless of what Lex claimed, things were different. Claire knew that he was planning something, and while this was not in any way a surprise, it was different now because she was not a part of it. She wasn't at his right hand. The only thing that was relatively straightforward in this moment was that they both wanted to be in another's presence - but both handled this want differently. Lex saw Claire's company as something to which he had earned his rights long ago. Claire saw his as something to which she no longer had any right. Ignoring how much things had changed in just a matter of months was wrong.

...but everyone was entitled to being wrong at times, weren't they? Maybe she was somewhat superhuman, but she was still only human, and she was allowed a moment of weakness to miss the life she'd never had the chance to mourn.

"So why are you here?" Claire asked, and in an instant, Lex realized that her willingness to prolong their conversation meant a small victory on his part, because he had worn down her resolve enough to get to this point. "Metropolis Young Professionals? This isn't exactly your target market of investors."

"In general, perhaps not," Lex shrugged, gesturing with the index finger of his free hand. "But in the spirit of complete transparency, I came here in hopes of encountering one young professional in particular."

Claire found her face inexplicably flushed, partially because of the large gulp of her drink she'd taken while Lex was speaking, and partially because of the smirk on his face after having spoken. The insinuation clearly hadn't been lost on her. Sensing the window of vulnerability, Lex leaned forward, resting his forearm on the bar in between them.

"You're not afraid of having a drink with me, are you?" Lex taunted with an irk of his eyebrows. "I can't imagine why you would be."

Lex drank in the sense of amusement that came with watching that familiar glint appear in Claire's eyes that only appeared when she was being challenged and pride would not allow her to back down. "I'm not," she said pointedly. For someone as clever as Lex knew she was, she was also delightfully quick to walk right into a setup when it was Lex Luthor doing the setting, which was fine by him.

"Good," Lex smirked, his voice lowered as he leaned closer to her. "I was beginning to think you'd returned to Metropolis only to deprive me of the pleasure of your company."

Claire opened her mouth to respond and stammered a little bit, unsure of how to respond. She had intended to keep away from him, after all. She'd had all of the best intentions of doing so that now seemed to be down the drain. However, before she could provide a proper reply, the lights in the venue turned on, illuminating the room fully while the managers turned on the television sets to the local news.

"This just in," the anchorperson said, her voice blaring over the sound system in the venue and replacing the music that had been playing. "A string of robberies have been reported throughout Metropolis, and all business owners within the city limits are encouraged to take all possible security precautions until a suspect has been identified and apprehended..."

The screen split into several different camera shots, and one in particular made Lex Luthor sit up completely straight in his seat, halting his taunting of Claire whose eyes seemed to have caught sight of the exact same sight. There were camera shots of all of the locations that had been hit - including LexCorp Headquarters.

This, Lex thought as his upper lip curled into a sneer, was too familiar. It was too great a violation, and for a moment, his eyes roved suspiciously over Claire. Bruce Wayne had robbed him once and he could have done it again. Was sending Claire to the Gala a setup? Would they have expected him to look for her here?

But, Lex was able to reason, what quarrel did Bruce Wayne have with any of the other locations that had been hit? What need did the Bat have? Who else could it have been? The fact that it could have been anyone caused Lex to tense visibly.

"I need to go," Lex said in a near-snarl, getting up from the bar stool and practically slamming down the glass which he had been gripping far more tightly than he'd realized. He paused when he felt Claire's hand close around his forearm, gently tugging him back.

"Where are you going?"

"Where I need to be right now."

"Then," Claire said, getting up from her seat without releasing her hold on Lex's arm, "I'm going with you."


	47. Chapter 47

**_Last Time..._ **

_"Where are you going?"_

_"Where I need to be right now."_

_"Then," Claire said, getting up from her seat without releasing her hold on Lex's arm, "I'm going with you."_

* * *

Lex smoothly removed his arm from her hold and started walking away, feeling assured that this was a bluff. He pulled out his phone from the pocket on the inside of his blazer and called the most practical number he could think to call. A few moments passed, enough for a single ring before a response came.

"Trixie -"

"What are you calling Trixie for?" Claire asked, rifling through her small clutch purse as she teetered along behind Lex in her high heels on their way across the venue to the exit, feeling herself growing more irritated by the moment as he attempted not to acknowledge her. "I'm parked right out front. I'm going with you."

"I don't need you."

"I don't care."

The statement was enough to give Lex a moment's pause. She didn't care? Claire Branigan, who needed so badly to be needed, didn't care? It was clear on his face that he was sorely tempted to ask what she was playing at, but it manifested only in a slight sneer that was tinged with confusion. Claire, however, gave a quiet groan and nudged past him towards the door while Lex said curtly into the phone, "Meet us at LexCorp. Now."

_Meet us_ , Claire realized he had said.

"Let's go," she continued without waiting for Lex to process things any further. "I'm driving."

There were a few seconds of nearly electric pause that seemed to crackle and fizz with the tension between the pair, but this, Lex surmised, was neither the time nor place for it. He gave a curt nod and got into the passenger side of Claire's car.

Months ago, the silence of the car ride would not have been uncomfortable in the least - shared silences had once been calm between them. Now, however, there was a sense as though something needed to be said, a sense that the silence needed to be broken yet both refused to do the breaking. Instead, Claire simply let her foot fall a little heavier on the gas pedal than it usually would, let her hand jerk the steering wheel with a little more force, as though the speed and the extra stimulation of being whipped around in her car could stand in for the conversation that was not happening.

And Claire could see that Lex grew more and more agitated with every moment that passed. The erratic gestures of his hand, the slight twitch at the corner of his lip, all of these things were things that Claire once was able to assuage - but it was no longer her place, she reminded herself. It was painful to watch, but it was no longer her place.

After what felt like hours, she came to an abrupt halt in front of the LexCorp main entrance, across the street from the armored cars and police vehicles which still had their lights flaring. She and Lex both exited her car and walked across the street with even strides, side by side like they had many times before. As they approached, a distraught woman dressed in sweats came rushing in their direction.

"Mister Luthor, Miss B," Trixie, the receptionist, said breathlessly without bothering to avert her eyes from widening at the sight of Claire at Lex's side. "I came right away when I saw the news - the intruders are still on the premises -"

"Did they breach Sub-Level Four Security?"

"No, but -"

"That's what matters the most," Lex said, his eyes momentarily bulging in urgency as he leaned in closer to his receptionist. "You're sure Sub-Four is secure?"

"I'm sure," Trixie said, pulling out her work-issued smartphone and pulling up the security alarm controller app that Lex had created for his staff. A series of bars represented the different levels of the building, and by the looks of things, only the main level had been accessed. Claire's expression shifted into a frown as she realized that Sub-Level Four was clearly home to something Lex did not want seen - something he didn't want her to see.

"Then they're not after money. They're not after any of our innovations," Lex said in a clearly flustered tone, beginning to pace slightly and grit his teeth. "Then who were they and why were they here?"

"Why _are_ they here, you mean," Trixie corrected. "The sensors don't show that they ever left the premises. Last activity seems to be in the back corridor leading to the freight lot."

"Then that's where we'll find them."

"Lex," Claire snapped, finally unable to resist the urge and grabbing him by the arm as he began to stride away. "Leave it to the cops -"

"The cops!" Lex said in a mocking, sing-song tone as he pulled his arm out of Claire's reach and glanced over at the police still standing outside the premises, clearly not acting as though a threat were still present. "Ah. Yes. Because I trust the same people who put me in prison and would like nothing more than to see me back there to neutralize a threat to my company. They don't even know anyone is still inside, and I'm going to handle it myself -"

"You are _not_ ," Claire said, her lip curling into a sneer as she grabbed a hold of Lex's arm again, having to try her damnedest not to allow her augmented strength to turn a protective gesture into a threatening one, "going to go in there alone."

Claire waited a few moments before breaking eye contact and leaning over to take off her party heels, casting them to the side. "Let's go around the back before anyone sees us," she said authoritatively, walking off ahead of Lex. He had half the mind to remind her that she no longer had skin in this game, that she should leave - but before he could, as she walked around to the side alley closest to the freight yard and yanked a pole out from a nearby bike rack, wielding it at her side, there was a fleeting sense in Lex's mind that even if Claire had become one of them, one of the undeservedly powerful that he so purported to hate, it was much more favorable to have one of them on his side.

They continued around the entirety of the LexCorp compound towards the small stretch of chain-link fence that marked the only convenient entry and exit point of the back lot. There was still a chain and padlock securely wrapped around the fenceposts, which meant that unless they had climbed, whoever had entered the premises hadn't yet left this way.

"We gotta get in, don't we?" Trixie said. "I'm gonna need to go around front and get the keys -"

"I don't think that'll be necessary, Trixie," Lex interrupted before locking eyes with Claire and raising eyebrows. "What do you think, Claire?"

Claire gritted her teeth and inhaled sharply through her nostrils. If she'd possessed any desire to keep secrets, Lex was making it clear that he would make it near impossible. Without another word, she lifted the pole she'd acquired, jammed the edge into a particularly weak-looking link of chain, and severed it with what the looked like the effort of a gentle push.

"Don't ask," Claire said pointedly to Trixie before pushing open the gate and slowly stepping into the freight yard. "So, are we going into each container one by one or something?" she asked raising an eyebrow.

"Container 575E."

"Why that particular one?" Claire asked reflexively, but as she looked back at Lex, the expression of challenge on his face was indication enough that whatever the reasons were, she probably didn't want to know. She let out a heavy breath and rolled her shoulders before giving the metal pole another gentle circular swing. "575E it is, then. I'm going," Claire said, her teeth gritted as she wheeled around to face Lex. "You're not. You two," Claire said with admittedly more authority than Lex had every heard in her voice. "Stay. Here."

When Claire tried to walk ahead of them, however, Lex merely snickered. Claire turned around to find him shaking his head and clicking his tongue, his eyes slightly squinted in amusement.

"For someone who says that things can't be how they were," he began matter-of-factly, "you've changed very little."

"I'm just doing the right thing."

"And I have always been fascinated by your definition of _right_."

Claire's instinct was to retort, and if things had truly been how they once were, she would have - but this time, biting the inside of her cheek slightly, she refrained. He would not get a rise of her, she convinced herself. Not now, when there were bigger fish to fry. "We don't have time for this," she said sternly.

"How convenient."

"Do you want me to help you or not?" Claire snapped.

"If I don't?" Lex asked, crossing his arms and tilting his head to one side, his eyebrows raised in challenge. In his own way, he knew somewhere in his mind, he was merely trying to do what Claire had done for him - stop her from doing something clearly illogical and potentially fatal by doing what might hurt her most. He knew nothing would hurt Claire Branigan more than the idea that she was not needed. He had twice denied her. Maybe it would be enough, he reasoned, but reasoned incorrectly.

"Too bad," Claire said with slightly narrowed eyes, turning on her heel and striding in the direction of Container 575E in the row of large metal freight containers.

"You're gonna let her go in there alone, Mister Luthor?" Trixie asked, still hanging a considerable distance back, knowing that some things were simply beyond her pay grade.

"I've found that I have very little influence on what she decides to do."

"Pretty sure you found _wrong_ ," Trixie provided. But, in Lex's mind, it mattered very little. Claire was not under his control, and it remained to be seen what that meant for him.

Wielding the iron bar she had pried up on the way, Claire walked along the fence, along the side of the building, and to the entrance to the freight container.

This was a trap. She knew it was a trap, and she was sure that Lex knew it was as well. She looked back at him, noting his expression was strangely unreadable - no misplaced amusement, no indignation at being told what to do. He simply stared at Claire as she moved. Claire inhaled through her nostrils and readied herself before kicking in the door where the padlock had already been knocked clear off. Once she had stepped inside, the corrugated steel door swung shut on its hinges with a mighty creak, leaving her mostly in the dark save for a small stream of light where rust cad corroded a hole in the steel.

The freight container was filled with wooden crates, stacked nearly to the top along the sides in evenly spaced stacks with an empty space in the middle, presumbly for easy loading and unloading. As claire wandered slowly down the rows, she made a note that the crates seemed... off. They seemed to emanate heat, to almost fill the air with vibrations from whatever their contents were. It felt almost as though the contents were alive.

And then, slowly, the vibration in the air was replaced with something else - with sound that grew from faint near-silence to a more discernible volume. Someone was here making the sound.

Someone was laughing.

"Looks like someone has joined our little party," came the quiet, chuckling voice tucked away somewhere in a corner behind Claire. She whirled around to look, only to find her eyes struggling to accommodate the darkness. "Unfortunately, you weren't on the guest list. Looks like... the joke's on you."

Before Claire could react, she felt something hard collide with the back of her head just as her vision went black and she collapsed into a heap on the ground, the pole she had taken as a weapon falling next to her with a clatter.

 

 


	48. Chapter 48

"Mornin', sunshine."

Claire strained to open her eyes against a throbbing headache when she finally came to enough to register the sound of a voice - a strange voice, almost cartoonish in its tone in that it had a misplaced, deranged lilt of laughter behind it. It took only moments for her to realize who this voice belonged to, even before she opened her eyes.

Next, she realized that she was seated in a chair, her wrists bound by rope.

Rope.

She realized that this meant her captors were unaware of her ability to get free - and the element of surprise was a valuable commodity, a card she would keep up her sleeve until it would be of most use. Instead of freeing herself, she finally forced her eyes open and looked up into the unsettling grin of the one they called the Joker.

"How did I get here?" she asked automatically. She quickly realized, however, that if they'd meant to kill her, it would've been done by now. That ruled out one motive. "Where am I? Where is-"

"Is it storytime?" the clown said with an almost shrill chuckle, grabbing hold of another chair and turning it around backwards so that he sat in front of Claire, straddling the back of the seat. "I love storytime. Once upon a time," he began, leaning over so that his face was dangerously near hers. "There was a prince. The Clown Prince of Crime, they called him. And the Prince had a friendly rivalry with a certain... Dark Knight."

He shifted quickly and slapped his hands down on the back of the chair and swiped it aside erratically, sliding it aside and starting to pace back and forth in front of Claire, tapping his chin in exaggerated thought. "This friendly rivalry brought balance to the kingdom of Gotham until one day, a wealthy baron from the neighboring kingdom of Metropolis decided to meddle in affairs that weren't his to meddle in. And this Richie Rich baron from Metropolis always sent his precocious yet very mousy little baroness-" he made a dramatic gesture in Claire's direction, "- to do his dirty work for him. Well, here's the thing about mice, sweetheart."

The Joker stopped pacing and stopped square in front of Claire and leaned over her, bracing his weight on either side of the chair back behind her. "They get caught in traps. So, here we are."

Claire was spared the obligation to somehow respond by the sound of clapping drawing nearer and the sight of a woman with blonde, dip-dyed pigtails and a painted face drawing nearer. "You tell the best stories, puddin'," she laughed, meandering over and wrapping her arms around the man's waist, nuzzling into the side of his neck.

"Harley Quinn," she said with a wide, toothy grin. "Nice to meetcha."

"So what am I here for?" Claire asked, shifting her bound wrists and very gently testing the strength of the rope - she could get free easily, she surmised, and just needed the right opening.

"I need a message delivered to your little boyfriend," the Joker said. "I've tried doing it myself but..." his voice trailed off and he chuckled dryly. "You know how men can be. I have a feeling you can be much more convincing."

"I'm not in a position to tell him to do much of anything," Claire replied flatly, unblinking and unhesitating. Her pair of captors studied her for a moment before the Joker clicked his tongue, stepping away from his companion to circle Claire's chair again.

"Am I sensing a little trouble in paradise?" he asked with feigned pity. "I shouldn't be surprised. You've been missing in action for quite some time. How about you tell Mista J just what's the matter?"

Claire looked away without an answer, only to find her head yanked back by the hair by the woman, who gave a shrill laugh of her own. "Oh, come on!" she said, leaning her face close to Claire's. "You're no fun!"

"I've got nothin'."

"Oh, really?" he said, leaning close to Claire's face while Harley backed off and continued to pull her head back. "You don't have the dirt on that fun little kitchen appliance your boyfriend's been collecting parts for?"

No, Claire wanted to snarl. She didn't know anything anymore - even if a part of her felt that she should know what was happening, even that maybe she had a right to know, she knew nothing and it ate away at her whether she wanted to say so or not. She did, however, make a mental note to remember that Lex was collecting _parts_ for something.

"If you're trying to get anything out of Lex Luthor, it won't be through me," Claire continued, clenching her teeth in pain - the self control it took not to use her abilities was growing by the second, but the need to be strategic about her secret prevailed. "That ship has sailed."

Upon hearing this, the woman released her hold on Claire's hair - the sudden release caused Claire's head to briefly to droop forward before she recovered and looked up at her captors. The man, however, looked at her with an exaggerated pout of a frown.

"Am I sensing trouble in paradise?" he said, leaning over again to hover over Claire. "Sounds like the little lady needs a shoulder to cry on. How about you tell Mistah J all about it?"

"Nothing to tell."

"Well, in that case," the Joker said, straightening up and briefly turning his back on Claire. He took a few paces before suddenly turning around and brandishing a gun, pointing it straight at Claire's forehead.

Reflexively, Claire immediately dropped her pretense of actually being restrained, pulling her arms free and flinging the chair in defense, so hard that it lodged itself high up in the wall where it made impact. The Joker, in turn, had also pulled the trigger, only to reveal that instead of a bullet firing, it extended a small flag emblazoned with the word 'bang!'

At the sight of what Claire had been able to do, however, his eyebrows leapt in surprise, as did Harley's who moved over to stand by the Joker's side.

"Hey, puddin'," Harley said, again slinging an arm over the Joker's shoulder. "I think we found ourselves a collector's item."

"I think so too," the Joker chuckled. "What say we keep this one somewhere safe?"

"'Fraid the lady's got work tomorrow," a voice spoke up, and in a bright red blur, both Harley and the Joker were knocked backwards and dragged across the room. Instead, Barry Allen stood in front of Claire, clad in his red suit, a mask, and a smug grin. "Sorry it took so long, buddy. Didn't know where you wandered off to."

"Not so fast," the Joker snarled.

"'Fraid 'not so fast' is... not in my vocabulary," Barry said with a lazy salute. "Get it? Because - because I'm the Flash -"

"Ruining the joke," Claire interrupted in a sing-song voice. "Can we move things along?"

"Right!" Barry spoke up. "Got distracted! Time to take out the trash - Mister Wayne sends his love! You'll have to catch up sometime."

And in another whirl of scarlet, a long, snaking wire was yanked from the wall and used to bind both Harley and the Joker tightly enough to render them temporarily incapacitated.

Instead of being angry, however, the Joker threw his head back and laughed. "Well played," he howled. "Until next time."

"Give Batsy our love, wouldja?" Harley added with a broad grin. It was clear that they didn't plan on staying trapped long and had simply grown bored.

"I think," Claire said as she and Barry made their way out of the building, "He was seriously just playing games this time." Everyone knew, after all, that the Joker and Harley Quinn were capable of much, much worse than what had just happened. Once they had gotten outside, Barry led Claire around the back of the unfamiliar condemned building they'd exited, off to an alley on the side where, like clockwork, the telltale black vehicle pulled up, barely visible except for its headlights. Judging by the darkness outside, it was still the wee hours of the morning with no one to see them.

"Our chariot, milady," Barry said with a bow, jokingly reaching over and pulling open the door for her. Once they had both gotten into the back and shut the doors behind them, Barry pulled the mask down from his head and revealed his face, beaming broadly. "That was fun, Mister Wayne. You missed out."

"I think he's had his fill of dealing with that guy," Claire piped in matter-of-factly before reaching over and patting the back of the driver's seat where Bruce Wayne, dressed and ready as the Bat with the cowl over his head, was seated. "Thanks for the lift, Mister Wayne. Took you guys long enough."

"I've been dealing with the Joker long enough to know when he means business and when he's just in it for a laugh," Bruce supplied shortly, which made Claire bristle slightly, though she thought better than to address it at this point in time. "Did you expect something good to come of running off with Lex Luthor this time around?"

"He needed my help."

"Old habits die hard," Bruce shrugged. It was no use, he had surmised a good while ago, trying to disentangle Claire Branigan from Lex Luthor's grasp. Even when she was their ally, even when she was their friend, there was no severing certain ties. Claire crossed her arms over herself and leaned back in her seat. Her expression shifted, however, when Bruce reached into the center console and tossed something in Claire's direction - nearly missing, she caught the silver key that he'd thrown back over his shoulder. "Figured you'd need a spare, unless you had the presence of mind to hold onto your car keys while you were unconscious."

Claire grudgingly mumbled her thanks, tucking the key into her pocket. She glanced outside, and realized they were on their way towards LexCorp, where she had left her car. "Do what you need to do," he said as he pulled up in an alleyway parallel to LexCorp's headquarters. Claire's jaw clenched slightly before speaking up. "Thanks," she said, managing a little more enthusiasm than before. "To you too, Barry."

"No worries," Barry grinned. "Least I could do, considering I just finished the pizza in your fridge.

"Nice. I truly value your friendship, Barry. _Truly_."

Claire chuckled and shook her head as she got out of the car, checking her surroundings before running off to the her car and sitting inside, alone. It was now, before starting the engine, that she let out a heavy breath and rested her head against the top of the steering wheel. Do what you need to do, Bruce had said. He'd known that she was going to look for Lex now, that she was going to seek him out, and he let it happen. Claire had to admit that something had changed - that maybe she had now earned the respect of the Bat.

That did not change the fact, however, that she had put herself in danger for Lex Luthor, and when the time came that she needed help, he had been nowhere to be found. While Claire couldn't say that it surprised her, she also couldn't say that it didn't disappoint her a little bit. She found herself driving much more quickly than she needed to down the streets of Metropolis, up the winding hillside road to Luthor mansion. She didn't give a damn that it was now only two in the morning. She didn't care what state she found him in. She wanted an explanation.

Her tires skidded to a halt in the ornate driveway of the mansion, only to find another unfamiliar car already parked there. A gaudy white Rolls Royce, decked out with custom gold trim. Claire's jaw clenched when she realized that it was very likely that this car belonged to a woman. Getting out of her car, she stormed towards the front door, which was slightly ajar, and walked to the foyer, waiting just around the corner from the receiving room, out of sight but just barely able to see Lex sitting in the armchair, a blonde-haired woman with a cheetah-printed dress sitting on the arm with her forearm draped over his shoulders.

"So it's done then?" Lex asked the woman. If they had noticed Claire's arrival neither of them acknowledged it. The woman traced the manicured tip of her index finger over Lex's chest and grinned.

"A done deal, Mister Luthor. It's just a matter of time before Miss Prince gets what's coming to her."

"And I suppose this... pleases you?" Lex asked with a wry smirk, tilting his head to one side.

"Absolutely, Mister Luthor. You never fail to please."

"Well, then, Miss Rich - the pleasure is all mine."

Claire found her stomach lurching when the woman began leaning closer to Lex, slowly but very intently, touching the tip of her finger to his cheek. At the last possible second, just before Claire was about to look away at the risk of getting sick to her stomach, Lex stood up from his seat and extricated himself from the near-kiss, instead wrapping an arm around the woman's waist and beginning to lead her to the door - towards the foyer. It had all happened so quickly that Claire did not have time to hide.

Lex, for a split second, wore an unreadable expression of surprise before regaining his composure, gently pushing the woman towards the door.

"All yours, dear," the blonde woman said with a saccharine, artificial grin, reaching over and patting Claire's cheek condescendingly. "I'm finished with him for now."

The woman, Miss Rich as Lex had called her, strolled off with a dainty wave of her fingers out the door, driving away with a rev of her engine. Claire watched her leave, initially unable to even look at Lex until he broke the silence first.

"What a surprise, Claire," he chuckled. "To what do I owe the pleasure of your company at -" he gave a flick of his wrist and checked his Rolex watch, "- two-thirty-seven in the morning?

"I went in there for you, and you sat back here and did nothing," Claire said in a voice that was uncharacteristically shrill, flinging her arms out to her sides. Lex, however, simply shrugged nonchalantly in response.

"I know you have friends in high places these days. What can I say?" Lex replied. "I have important things to address -"

"Important things named Miss Rich with her tits pushed up to her chin?" Claire supplied before she could help herself, immediately going red in the face as she realized she had made herself very obvious indeed. Lex, never one to give up the upper hand, took a few steps closer and reached forward, brushing a hand through Claire's hair which she quickly swatted away in annoyance. Lex smirked, tucking his hand into his pocket.

"Priscilla and I are all business... but what business is that of yours?" he asked, cocking his head to one side. He circled her a little bit, and even when he was behind her, he could tell she was clenching her teeth in frustration. "It kills you, doesn't it?" he asked, looking up as he took a few more steps so that he stood indirectly in front of her again. "Just say the word, and I can put you right back in your rightful place, Claire. It doesn't need to be difficult."

"Yeah, Lex, it kinda does," Claire said with a huff, crossing her arms over herself. "Everything that's happening now is bigger than us."

And Claire, in typical Claire fashion, stormed off out the door before she could allow herself to be convinced otherwise. As she let the front door close behind her, Lex allowed his shoulders to slump slightly, settling down back into the armchair and fishing back into his pocket for an object the size of a small bead with short legs almost like a spider - he inwardly congratulated himself for having found the opening to pluck it out of Claire's hair during their brief conversation. He'd managed to tuck the miniature tracking device into the depths of her brown locks tucked back into a ponytail the night at the gala, and he took silent pride in the fact that Bruce Wayne and his band of merry misfits would likely have never tracked Claire down in time without him tipping them off as to her whereabouts.

It was, perhaps, an important detail - but allowing it to evade Claire's knowledge made the game all the more fun. He would get her back into her rightful place in time, but he would do it on his terms, and in the way he found the most amusing.

Now, however, there were indeed important details to attend to, and they did indeed have to do with Priscilla Rich. Making sure that Claire had in fact left the property altogether, he turned and headed into the sub-level control center in Luthor Mansion. Lex Luthor had been keeping tabs on Diana Prince for a few years now, and thanks to the ever so willing help of Priscilla Rich in bringing down the person whom she loathed more than any other, Lex knew that he was finally close to taking down one of these so-called heroes - to restoring the proper order of things, and to ridding their city of one of its newly acquired false gods. He had to be.


	49. Chapter 49

The amount of time Barry Allen now spent on business trips to Metropolis fell in an awkward place nowadays - not enough time to warrant having a separate place there, but enough that not having a place was a deeply felt inconvenience. It was for this reason that the sleeper sofa in Claire Branigan's Wayne Towers condominium was a blessing. She was always working - always - and when she was home at the same time Barry was crashing on her couch, never took issue with his use of her Netflix account or his perusing of her fridge.

Barry Allen felt it was safe to say that Claire was perhaps his only regular friend.

That did not mean, however that there was no level of awkwardness between the pair, which became plain as day one Saturday morning when, while Claire was trying to microwave a package of instant oatmeal on her way out to a half day at the clinic and Barry was in the guest bathroom, there was a knock on the door. Jumping and splattering a small amount of oatmeal on the hem of her scrub top in surprise, she placed her food down and murmured a few brief curses to herself before hurrying over to the door. She pulled it open to find an unfamiliar face - a woman with dark hair and skin, who looked clearly surprised to see her.

"Hi," Claire said, her brow furrowing in confusion. "Can - can I help you?"

"I just came to talk to Barry," she said unsurely, clearly thrown off by seeing Claire. "He's been out of town a lot lately so - so I flew out to see him when one of the guys at the station gave me his address out here. I wasn't expecting him to have company -"

"This - this is my place. I live here," Claire interrupted slowly, clearing her throat and trying as best as she could not to seem as though she were being mean to the girl - she certainly didn't want to be. "Barry just stays here when he's in town -"

" _Iris?_ "

Claire turned and looked over her shoulder to see Barry coming out of the bathroom and rushing over to the door, practically pushing Claire out of the way at the sight of the woman in the doorway - and suddenly, it made sense. Claire fought back the urge to grin a little bit at the realization that this was the Iris, Barry's One That Got Away, and she had flown all the way to Central City for him - maybe Barry was clueless as to the implications, but Claire most certainly was not.

"Listen, you come on in, okay?" Claire said kindly, reaching over and gently touching Iris's forearm to usher her inside, a gesture which seemed to genuinely surprise the woman. "I have to run out to work right about now anyway, so you two make yourselves comfy, help yourself to some leftover pizza, and I'll get out of your way, okay?"

Claire shot Barry a brief, mischievous grin before swiping her keys and work badge off of the hook by the door and scurrying off, closing the door behind her and leaving Barry and Iris alone in the condo.

"So," Iris began awkwardly, taking a few steps further inside but hesitating before taking a seat on the sofa, shoving her hands into the pockets of her jacket. "You're staying here? With her?"

"Oh, with Claire? Yeah," Barry chuckled cluelessly, walking over to the fridge and pulling out the foil-wrapped package of pizza Claire had just invited them to. "She's really cool about it."

"Yeah. I like her," Iris said, looking strangely conflicted, as though liking Claire were something she did not _want_ to admit to. She looked over at Barry, who was already taking a bite out of a slice of cold pizza, with a pained expression. "She's friendly, and she's funny. She's - she's pretty..."

When Iris's voice trailed off sadly, it finally dawned on Barry that Iris thought he and Claire were a thing. His eyes went wide, and before he could help himself, he let out a strange, awkward honk of a laugh.

"Oh, God. I'm sorry," he said, waving his hand and regaining his composure though his expression gave away that not laughing was something that took a great deal of effort. "It's just - e and Claire are not - you know. I'm not - I mean, it's not like -"

A flush rose into Iris's face, and her mouth opened in surprise before she looked away in embarrassment. She groaned a little bit and shook her head before slowly allowing herself to laugh. "Man," she said, getting back to her feet and looking up at the ceiling. "This conversation is definitely not going the way I'd planned."

"You planned a conversation?" Barry asked in genuine surprise - the last he and Iris had spoken, they had broken up over him getting too fixated on his work at the police station, or his work on his little projects, or his video games. They had broken up because Barry was always in his head a little too much and in their relationship a little too little. Iris had been very up front about it, and so the fact that she had been planning a conversation with him caught him very much off his guard.

"It's - it was nothing," Iris said with a nervous attempt at laughter, waving her hand dismissively. "I just - I wanted to see you. I miss you."

And at this, Barry couldn't help but grin. He most definitely owed Claire Branigan a solid.

* * *

Meanwhile, Claire had already settled herself quickly into another day of playing catch up at the clinic - there were always files to be reviewed and paperwork to be done. Claire Branigan certainly never expected helping people and saving lives to involve so many forms, but such was the plight of the Metropolis Free Clinic.

After a good while, perhaps a good two or three hours of puttering away at things that needed to be done in their admittedly small starter clinic, she had just sat down to sort through a large pile of the week's mail that her clerical staff hadn't yet gotten around to when she realized that the letter on the top of the stack was on very distinct LexCorp letterhead. Unable to help her curiosity, Claire swiped up this letter in particular and opened it, muttering the words to herself.

"Miss Branigan," she said, her forehead creasing slightly. "Due to your usage of LexCorp low-cost pharmaceutical products, we are pleased to extend the offer to your clinic to serve as an official partner of the the LexCorp Affordable Pharmaceutical Initiative."

Official partner. Claire felt strangely unsettled at the offer to be a partner to the project that was hers - that she had built and designed from the ground up in what felt like another life. But it made sense, and it fit in with the business plan she knew well. She knew that she prescribed LexCorp's low-cost medicines as opposed to pricier brand-name medications at every opportunity, and that no matter who ran the clinic, it was enough to qualify for official partnership. She couldn't have explained why it unsettled her - it simply felt weird. Taking a moment to settle her nerves, she continued reading.

"Please expect a visit to your clinic in the near future to collect the enclosed affiliation agreement. We appreciate your patronage."

And the next line down, Claire blinked as she realized the signature on the page was not Lex's business letter signature. He'd signed this letter personally. She placed the letter down on the desk and scratched the back of her neck, letting out a breath. Why, she wondered to herself, couldn't she have gotten herself into a less messy situation?

She was jolted out of her thoughts, however, at the sound of the front door to the clinic swinging open and Bruce Wayne standing in the doorway.

"I need you to come with me."

"But I'm working -"

"And it'll still be there later. Come with me."

Without asking questions, Claire swiped the keys and her things from the desk and hurried towards the door to follow Bruce outside, locking up behind her. As he got into his car, Claire opened the passenger side door and got inside without needing to be told, but flinched in surprise at the sound that greeted her.

"Kind of feels like take your kids to work day, doesn't it?" Barry said brightly, craning his neck to poke between the driver and passenger seats.

"Shit, Barry!" Claire yelped. "What's going on? What about your girlfriend?"

"Oh - yeah, she's still at your place. It's okay that she crashes there for a while tonight, right? We're going out to dinner and -"

"Yeah, yeah, it's fine, whatever," Claire interrupted, her brow furrowing as she tried to filter through Barry's rapid-fire thoughts. "That still doesn't answer my question of what's going on?"

"It's Diana," Bruce said sternly as the car took off in the direction of the freeway out of Metropolis towards Gotham City. "She's in trouble."

"In trouble?" Claire asked in disbelief. "What do you mean, she's in trouble?"

"I mean she's being held at Metropolis City Jail -"

"Jail? For what?"

"Grand larceny." Bruce's jaw was set firmly as he drove quickly over the roads, weaving through cars with a recklessness that Claire wasn't aware he was capable of. This was not the calculating and stoic Bruce Wayne she was used to. Once the initial surprise of it had worn off, however, the next thing that came to mind was the blonde woman she had seen with Lex Luthor the previous night,

"Priscilla Rich."

"What?"

"It has something to do with Priscilla Rich," Claire spoke up, her eyes widening slightly as the pieces began to slowly come together. "She was - she was at Lex's place last night, and she said that it was just a matter of time before Diana got what was coming for her. I - I didn't -"

"So it's Luthor behind this?"

"No." Claire said sternly, her voice growing harsher and colder at the insinuation that it would be Lex Luthor and not Priscilla Rich who they targeted to solve this problem. Bruce stiffened at Claire's insistence, and his eyes darted to the side, regarding her with some suspicion.

"Lex Luthor," Bruce said, his jaw clearly tense as he attempted not to approach this in a way that agitated Claire - an agitated metahuman, even one as green as Claire, was not going to help the situation. "Is the one pulling the strings. He always is, Claire."

"Always? Really?" Claire couldn't help but retort. "I seem to recall -"

"If you're gonna try playing both sides like this, then welcome to your life," Bruce sneered, not in the mood for a rebuttal from Claire. "This is what Lex Luthor is, Claire. Get used to it."

The remainder of the car ride continued in silence until the reach Wayne Manor, proceeding to stride into the home. Claire and Barry followed Bruce to the back elevator, still not speaking until Barry finally caved.

"Let's just all calm down and hit the reset button," he said, crossing his arms and tapping his foot while he looked back and forth between Bruce and Claire on the elevator ride down to the sublevels of Wayne Manor. "Deep... healing..."

"What have they got on Diana?" Claire interrupted stiffly, her gaze still focused forward instead of on anyone in particular as the elevator came to a halt. Bruce did not yet answer her question, waiting for the elevator door to open and striding off ahead of them towards the control center of the Batcave. "I asked you -"

"They've got a tape and they've got a witness," Bruce replied flatly, booting up the large screen and taking a seat while Claire leaned back on the table behind him. Barry leaned on the table next to Claire and let out a low whistle.

"I'll tell ya," he chuckled to himself. "This place never ceases to amaze."

"Pull up the tape," Claire said with a curt nod. It went without saying that they were able to acquire the footage. Between Bruce and Barry, they had managed a rather ingenious hack into the digital evidence archives of every law enforcement agency in the Metro-Gotham region. Bruce navigated to the file and began playing it in slow motion. "Metropolis Museum of History," Claire said as she read the caption along the bottom just in time for a figure to come onto the previously still screen.

From the back, perhaps it might have passed for Diana - tall, svelte, with sleek dark hair. A slight shift in the figure's positioning, however, brought a sneer to Claire's lips.

"That's Priscilla Rich," Claire said distastefully as she reached out and tapped a key to pause the footage while the woman was turned just enough to the side that one could see her formidable assets. "That's definitely not Diana on the tape. Whoever this witness was, they must have been pretty convincing."

"Video testimony," Bruce said, minimizing the playback screen to pull up another video file of a dark-skinned man. "Witness named Miles Morris, homeless, happened to be passing through."

Claire stared intently at the screen - the man's face was almost familiar, but there was something about the way he spoke as he recounted the woman he saw leaving the museum, recited the license plate number of the car he saw. "Do we know anything else about this mister Morris guy?"

"Forty-seven years old, never had an ID or a driver's license,' Bruce recited, clearly having looked into this himself prior to alerting them. "No employment history, but briefly institutionalized at Arkham Asylum for about a week for severe psychosis during the same time as someone near and dear to some of us was serving out a sentence."

Claire bit her tongue and inhaled through her nose, exhaling slowly before continuing. "This guy's accent, I can't put my finger on it. What is it?"

"Cape Verdean."

"Cape Verdean..." Claire said, her brow furrowing in concentration. "Cape Verdean..."

And it clicked - the night Lex had murdered Lubrano, the night of the earthquakes, she had seen this man on the files Lex had shown her in his control room. "David M."

"What was that?"

"That man giving the testimony isn't named Miles Morris, his name is David," Claire said knowingly. Bruce's mouth opened briefly as though about to ask her how she knew, but from her piercing glare, he knew that doing so would do nothing for their cause. "We need to look for the real Miles Morris."

"Good plan, folks, but there's a tiny problem," Barry spoke up, gesturing with his fingers on the word _tiny_. "Finding a bum in Gotham and Metropolis is going to make finding a needle in a haystack look like a first grade word search puzzle."

"He was in Arkham," Claire said, crossing her arms over herself. "We get our hands on his discharge paperwork -"

"So, commit a federal offense."

"Like it'd be the first time," Claire said with a roll of her eyes. "But from there, if we can get a location, the address of a shelter - something."

There was a heaviness now between Bruce and Claire - or rather, the heaviness had reappeared. For a short time, it had seemed like they had been able to overcome the circumstances of their initial acquaintance and had learned to work together, but Bruce's obvious disdain for Claire's insistence on 'playing both sides' had sent them spiraling back to where they had been.

"I'll get the information," Bruce said sternly.

"But -"

"I said," he interrupted, "leave it up to me."


	50. Chapter 50

In the days that followed Diana's arrest, to call things tense would have been an understatement. Diana Prince brought balance to their team, and without her, things seemed to become splintered. In particular, Diana had been the primary mender of the wedge that admittedly still remained between Bruce and Claire, which in her absence seemed to be driving deeper and deeper.

By the second day, they had relocated Victor Stone - whom Diana had been housing in the guest suite of her own home since bringing him back to the country - back to Wayne Manor to keep him from being isolated and alone in Diana's absence.

By the third day, Bruce Wayne had in fact been able to get information on the real Miles Morris from Arkham Asylum by his own means, which he had handed over to Claire the next day when they reconvened back in the control room of the Batcave. Three days without progress, and it had become evident that things needed to get done.

"I'm surprised you trust me with this," Claire said pointedly. "Considering I'm playing both sides, right?"

"I know I can count on you to do the right thing. And I know you wouldn't drop the ball and let Diana get sent to prison just for your little boyfriend," Bruce replied sternly. "You're not that kind of person."

"About time you realized it, I guess."

And while it nowhere near repaired things, Barry was relieved that this concession on Bruce's part at least called a ceasefire between himself and Claire Branigan. Early the next morning, Barry accompanied Claire to the shelter where the records stated that Miles Morris had been discharged to. The registrar at the front desk was able to provide only some information - that he always wore a bright blue Nike windbreaker, and had left two days after arriving after his hospitalization.

This was where the lead ended. Anticlimactically and quietly, the trail simply faded into oblivion, leaving nothing else to go by. There was no dramatic sense of failure. There was just the lingering wondering of what could possibly come next.

"We could ask the woman at the shelter to give a statement," Barry suggested when they again met up with Bruce Wayne, forced to deliver the bad news. "Discredit their only witness. She knows what the real Miles Morris looks like, if she says it isn't him."

"It would put that woman in danger," Claire said, looking defeated at being forced to admit such a thing - because the danger the woman would be in stemmed from her ability to throw a wrench into one of Lex's plans, and because she knew what Lex was capable of. "I - I don't know what else-"

"You've got a clinic to run, don't you?" Bruce asked, glancing Claire over and realizing how heavily this weighed on her conscience. "Go ahead. They need you too."

"But Diana -"

"She's a fighter. She's fine. Your patients need you too," Bruce conceded. The permission he was giving her to leave felt strangely like a peace offering. "I'll let you know if the case breaks. You've done everything you could."

But even as Claire made her way to the clinic for the day, even with the assurance that she had done the best she could, she could only feel a sense of failure, and a sense that maybe Bruce Wayne was not completely wrong about her attempts at playing both sides. Maybe it was better, Claire wondered, if they simply left her out of these hero games - she hadn't asked to be part of them anyway. Maybe it was better that she stayed at the clinic, where she knew she could at least do the job that was given to her.

Besides that, throwing herself into work was the only thing that Claire could think to do in times like this, when all of her other efforts seemed so futile. So entrenched in her work she became, so busied with every task in the clinic she could scrounge for herself, she was caught very much off guard when a visitor opened the front door to their office.

" _Miss Branigan_. I hope I haven't come at a bad time."

Looking visibly startled and admittedly frazzled from her frenzied pace of work today, Claire looked up from the computer where she was documenting her assessment on her last patient to see Lex Luthor striding into the waiting room of the clinic - at first, in the middle of a long day at work, she thought perhaps she was hallucinating. She sat bolt upright, her expression flat as he strode over to her, sauntering in expected Lex Luthor fashion.

"I believe my letter said to expect me in the near future," he said, stopping in front of her and placing his briefcase down on the desk and giving Claire a broad grin and a small, nasal laugh. "Have you had the chance to look over the affiliation paperwork? I'd be happy to go over it with you over lunch -"

"It's signed," Claire said succinctly, reaching over for a binder at the front desk and pulling large envelope from it, holding it out in Lex's direction - it was clear that she hoped to keep their interaction as brief as possible, and Lex knew precisely why. It was satisfying, he had no problem admitting, knowing that he was getting to her - that seeing him with Priscilla and knowing he had played a role in the woman's plot was affecting her ths way. "I wrote these forms, I know what's on them."

"Then I hope you'll join me for lunch anyway, Miss Branigan. I insist."

Claire glanced around at her staff, who were all progressively planning to take their breaks while the office closed for lunch, and conceded that she was out of excuses. It was begrudgingly that she followed Lex Luthor to the small restaurant across the street.

"Feels like old times, doesn't it?" Lex regarded with a smirk, eyeing Claire in her scrubs, sitting across from him.

"Not even remotely," Claire replied without even looking up from the menu. "I can't believe you, Lex. When are you going to quit?"

"Now, now," Lex said, reaching over to tip Claire's face upward, a gesture from which she recoiled, scooting back slightly away from his touch but looking up at him all the same. "Is that any way to talk to the man who just bailed your good friend out of jail?"

"What?"

Claire's face was unable to conceal the look of surprise that took control of her features. She knew that Diana was the only one he could be talking about, but she could not for the life of her piece together why. "You posted bail for -"

"For Diana Prince, yes," Lex said nonchalantly. "You passed my test with flying colors."

"Your test?"

"Of your loyalty, of course," Lex said with a smirk, cocking his head to the side as the waitress came by to take their orders. He admittedly took a small amount of joy in the way Claire stammered over her order, clearly distracted. She took a deep swig from her glass of water before again turning her puzzled expression in his direction. "I'm absolutely certain that if not for your influence, the Bat would have paid me a visit."

"We were focused on Priscilla because I knew she was the one who had taken action. It wasn't anything personal," Claire said in a low tone, unable to meet Lex's gaze. "Do you mean to say that this was all a test for me? Seriously?"

"Of course it was, and now I have the exact answer I was looking for," Lex replied in a nearly sing-song tone. "I know that you're loyal only to me at the end of the day, Claire. This wouldn't have been necessary if you hadn't been so delightfully cryptic about everything."

"Are you _serious_ , Lex?" Claire gave a low groan and rubbed at her temples. "This is unbelievable."

"On the contrary," Lex said, visibly amused by her exasperation. "I think it's precisely what I had expected."

For a few moments, Claire was dumbstruck, opening and closing her mouth to try and verbalize what was going through her head, only to find that she didn't have the words. She shook her head and let out a sigh as her Caesar salad was placed in front of her.

"I don't get what you want from me," she said, looking strangely defeated - and at this, Lex's expression flickered with a look of concern. He hadn't wanted to destroy her. He'd wanted to weaken her stubbornness, to break down her walls, but not to defeat her. He still envisioned Claire being what his mother had once been to his father - a rock, a tether to reality. A broken Claire was not what he needed. After a pause, he reached into his briefcase and pulled out a glossy card - a flyer for a party downtown located at a nightclub. _Club Desaad - A fit for every fantasy_. Claire sneered at it. She would've honestly been happy never seeing another party again in her life, because they were all pretense and melodrama with no reason for Claire to want to be there. "No thanks," she said abruptly. "I have dishes to dry."

"Now, wait a minute, Miss Branigan, I wasn't finished yet. You haven't heard the sales pitch," Lex smirked, tapping his finger on the address. "Does this location sound familiar to you?"

While the thought initially crossed Claire's mind that Lex very much deserved for her to be petulant and refuse to hear anything he had to say, she also knew that Lex Luthor was not one to _not_ be heard. Claire looked at it for a short while, her brow furrowing as she attempted to remember, until it looked as though a switched had flipped in her head. "We looked at this property together," she finally was able to conclude. "For the LexCorp Extension building you've been wanting the space for. The realtor said that it had been sold to someone who was building -"

"A nightclub. Exactly," Lex said, his eyebrows raising. "And I've done some extensive research on the establishment's illustrious owner, Mister Desaad. It appears he's had his share of nightlife venues, and always at the right place at the right time."

"What?"

" _Ah-ha_ ," Lex said with a mischievous grin, reaching into his briefcase and pulling out a file folder, giving it a taunting little wave in front of Claire. Curiosity was a trait that he could always count on in her, and he knew that this would be too much for her to resist. He continued to move the folder closer to her, tilting his head to one side with his eyes slightly narrowed in poorly concealed amusement. "I have you intrigued, don't I?"

He chuckled at the scowl that crossed Claire's face as she snatched the file from his hands, setting it in her lap and thumbing through the pages. Lex's eyebrows raised as he peered over to see what in particular she was looking it.

"Fascinating stuff, milady," he chirped. "If you'll peruse your way to the red tab right there, you'll find the daily newspaper from the week of Mister Desaad's first club opening in Moscow."

"Mass hospitalization of college rowing team," Claire read, her brow furrowing. "After winning the regional intercollegiate masters and celebrating at a new local nightclub, twenty college students were hospitalized after exhibiting unusually aggressive behavior, having no recollection of the events."

" _Blue tab_."

"Dubai, 2014," Claire read. "Drug use ruled out as cause of unexplained illness of thirty-two locals."

" _Green tab._ "

"Los Angeles, 2016. All the Rage: fifty college students claim amnesia after violent night on the town."

Claire gently bit the inside of her lip in thought before looking up. "Why is this any of our business? Because Metropolis is your city and you -"

"This, as you like to say so often, is bigger than that," Lex interrupted. "This has to do with him."

"Him?"

Lex regarded Claire with raised eyebrows, and Claire felt sick to her stomach upon realizing that he meant that this had to do with Darkseid. "You don't know that," Claire finally managing to croak hoarsely before clearing her throat and shaking her head. "It's weird, but it's not -"

"Back page, Claire."

It was almost an involuntary movement, but Claire flipped immediately to back page with a few scattered screenshots of security footage - groups of people all standing at the entrances to buildings, kneeling and bowing.

"Every time, they break into museums - nothing else. And they kneel," Lex supplied. "Sound familiar?"

_Kneel... before Darkseid..._

The words seemed to echo in Claire's head until she fiercely shook it as though this could physically banish the thoughts - the memories. All of the events surrounding their last encounter with Darkseid were admittedly a blur at this point, perhaps because Claire didn't want to remember them. The things she saw and heard and experienced, however, still remained tucked away in the back of her mind - the old woman at the orphanage, the plans. Museums, she realized, because they were looking for some kind of artifact. The Mother Boxes.

Then, as the floodgates of her memory opened, she remembered more of what she had heard between Darkseid and the woman called Granny Goodness...

_"Gotham and Metropolis are the ideal location to begin our conquest, my lord... Desaad is setting up his operational base as we speak. The people here are just as flawed and careless as all of the other worlds we've vanquished..."_

Claire's face paled, and she shut the folder, clutching it so tightly that her knuckles went white.

"Come with me," Lex said plainly, reaching out and pulling the folder from Claire's hand, then doing something that Claire found strange - he grabbed a hold of her shaking hand, steadying it the way she had once been known to do for him. "It's clearly worth investigating. You know we need to do this."

But Claire remained apprehensive. Her forehead wrinkled and her lips pursed slightly, and Lex knew this expression meant that he was winning. It meant that she was struggling to find an argument against him. "You know," he began, releasing her hand,"that knowing all of this and doing nothing will be the death of you." He smirked and leaned a little across the table.

Claire flinched and cleared her throat. "I'll meet you tonight at nine in front of Club Desaad —"

"Nonsense," Lex interrupted dismissively. "I'll pick you up at eight thirty, or what kind of gentleman would I be?"

Claire was close to speaking up, but it was almost as though something physically stopped her - and Lex knew her well enough to predict the turmoil in her mind.

Claire was going to refuse because it would risk her being found out by one of them - one of Batman's merry band of heroes. But Lex knew that Claire would not give this excuse because it would prove him right in his insinuations that her new friends were controlling her. It would mean admitting defeat, and Lex knew Claire would go to great lengths to avoid the indignity.

"Fine." Claire cleared her throat and got to her feet. "I have to get back to work."

"Toodles," Lex smirked with a waggle of his fingers in Claire's direction. "Don't forget, it's a nightclub of the more questionable variety so... I'll leave the choice of attire to your judgment, but bear that in mind."

The statement lingered in Claire's mind as she crossed the street back to the clinic - it was subtle but all the same blatant. Lex had left the choice of clothing up to her. It was something that Lex had always made a point of controlling for her because it made him feel good - because it gave him a sense of authority and importance. This had to mean something, didn't it?

It bothered her. It confused her. It remained a question in her mind until she arrived back at the clinic and found her phone on her desk with several missed calls from Bruce Wayne. Reflexively, she immediately red isles and waited for his answer.

"You rang, boss?"

"Diana's being released today, I'm on my way to get her," Bruce said abruptly - Claire hadn't expected him to humor her anyway. "Someone posted bail for her and the stolen items were returned, the charges were dropped —"

"Mm."

"I have a lead that I need you to look into," he continued, not even acknowledging that Claire hardly seemed surprised by the news. "But you'll be going solo this time, Barry asked for a pass on this one —"

"Because Iris is flying back out to Central City tomorrow, he told me," Claire said matter-of-factly. "What's the lead?"

"New place opening tonight - the owner's opened several clubs in Europe that each only stay open a few months right around the same time as some unusual activity. People acting strangely, natural disasters."

"Club Desaad."

"Club — exactly," Bruce said, clearly thrown off track that Claire had reached the conclusion on her own that he was leading her to. "How do you know about —"

"Let's just say I've got a finger on the pulse too. Playing both sides isn't all bad," Claire replied. "I'm on the case, boss man, don't worry about it."

And Claire had to admit, it felt good to be the one to hang up on a dumbfounded Bruce Wayne for once. In fact, she rode the good mood all the way through the remainder of her workday. It was nice for once, she realized, to have one up on the Bat.


	51. Chapter 51

_"Jesus Christ, put some clothes on!"_

Claire stepped out of her room to see Barry and Iris dressed to go out as well, but she clearly felt uncomfortable with her own attire - a short, tight silver dress that dipped low in the back, exposing enough skin so that the ends of her long hair brushed the curve of her spine. Barry wrinkled his nose slightly at the sight of her. He'd come to see Claire as a very good friend, practically an older sister, and as he put it when they were at the same events, no one wanted to see their older sister with her _chichis_ showing.

"I'm going to a club, I'm not gonna wear a potato sack and a veil," Claire said, rolling her eyes. "Where are you two off to?"

"We're going to a club too!" Iris said with a grin, swiping something off of the kitchen counter and holding it out in Claire's direction - Claire tensed slightly when she realized that Iris was showing her a flyer for Club Desaad as well. After sharing a brief glance with Barry, communicating with a brief jolt of her eyebrows that she didn't think this was the best of ideas, Claire was able to regain her composure.

"She really wanted to go - supposed to be all the rage," Barry said with a slight roll of his eyes, snaking an arm comfortably around Iris's waist. "I know, I know. New place, really trendy, gonna be crazy - we'll be fine, she's got me!"

"Well," Claire said apprehensively, unable to come out and simply say that there was something unusual about the event for fear of Iris learning something she shouldn't have. It was only the first night, Claire convinced herself. Surely the illustrious Mister Desaad wouldn't try anything too big right out of the gate. "I'll be there too -"

Before Claire could finish her statement, there was a knock on the door, and she flinched in realization - she hadn't specifically mentioned to Lex not to come upstairs, and she that more than anything, Lex Luthor never bypassed the opportunity to make a point. Clenching her teeth briefly before excusing herself to the door, she inhaled and exhaled deeply before opening the door and seeing Lex leaning with his forearm on the outer edge of the doorjamb.

"Impressive," he said with a smirk, looking Claire up and down and relishing the blush that quickly flooded her cheeks. "Can I come in?"

Lex strode in past her without waiting for her answer and placed his hands on his hips when he caught sight of Barry and Iris. "Mister Luthor," Barry said with a snicker, cocking his head to one side. "Funny seeing you again, isn't it? Been a while."

"Ah, right. Mister Allen, was it?" Lex said, feigning difficulty remembering as he strode over and offered his hand for a handshake - Barry knew full well, of course, that Lex Luthor's memory was working just fine. "Always a pleasure to see a familiar face."

"Let's go," Claire said shortly, raising her eyebrows and nodding towards the door. Lex glanced over once more and Barry and Iris and gave a fake two-finger salute accompanied by a smirk.

"Sorry to cut this short - the lady's itching to get our night on the town started."

_"Come on."_

Claire had now looped her arm through Lex's and practically pulled him out the door, hurriedly mumbling something to Barry and Iris about locking up when they left.

Suffice it to say, Lex appreciated the sight of Claire Branigan in her short silver dress sitting in the passenger seat of his Rolls Royce Wraith. His appreciation was not even necessarily lascivious in nature, just a sense of victory at the fact that Claire and her vanilla shampoo and her excellent legs had come back to him after all. Even though she made a point of looking away and not saying a word for the entirety of the drive to Club Desaad, Lex still could not help but smugly call this a victory.

Once the valet had taken the car off to the VIP lot, Lex caught Claire gently by the crook of the arm and stopped her before she could head into the club.

"Admit one thing - this isn't your scene," Lex said with a smirk.

"You know it isn't," Claire said with a frown. "But I'm here on business."

"Well, should business grow tiresome — here," Lex said, closing something into Claire's palm which she realized was a room keycard. She read the word on it, realizing that it opened the door to the Metro Bayfront penthouse suite, the five star hotel across the street.

"What's this supposed to be?" Claire said, yanking her arm out of his grasp. "Lex —"

"If this was a ploy to get you into a hotel room, I'd get you liquored up and take you there myself. Much more efficient," Lex said, raising his eyebrows. "That's the only room key."

At the uncharacteristically trustworthy gesture, Claire eyed Lex suspiciously for a good few seconds before tucking the key away into her clutch purse and turning on her heel towards the entrance to Club Desaad without another word. Lex followed her in and, seeing her hesitation upon reaching the edge of the large crowd of guests inside, took advantage of the opportunity to sling an arm around her waist.

"Stay close," he murmured, his mouth close to her ear. He grinned at the fact that he could hear her inhale sharply and gulp before taking a step away from him.

"I need a drink!" she said in a slightly shrill voice. "I'm gonna grab something to drink, and then I'm going to try and find this Desaad guy - you coming?"

And again, she scurried off into the crowd towards the bar without waiting for an answer. Admittedly, this was becoming less and less amusing for Lex, but he knew he needed to play along - especially now, when he could tell he was so close to victory.

Lex Luthor knew that Claire was afraid - he that she was afraid of facing another affiliate of Darkseid, given how the last encounter had gone. He also knew, however, that Claire Branigan reacted poorly to her own fear - she regarded her own fears with obstinance and anger, running into them head first. That was why she was so eager to get a drink, to gather some semblance of courage. Lex took pride in how well he knew her, because she was his.

Claire already had her first vodka and tonic in hand when Lex caught up with her at the bar. He leaned on the countertop next to her and glanced over her face with a scrutinizing expression of his own. Claire, however, moved her gaze away from him and over towards a visible balcony area, cordoned off and considerably less crowded. Taking a sip from her drink, Claire placed her free hand on Lex's arm and nodded for him to look in the direction of the balcony. From where they stood, they could see plush couches that appeared to be inhabited only by couples, visibly enamored with one another and intertwined on the couches. A large man in all black, most likely a bouncer, approached a couple and interrupted them only to escort them towards a door at the back of the area, gold-trimmed red door that opened to a staircase. Giggling and still all over one another, the couple hurried up the staircase and had the door closed behind them.

"The bouncer," Claire said, having been squinting to get a good look at the lounge. "I was trying to read his lips, I think he said something about Desaad. Getting into that lounge might be the way to the guy."

"Astute as always," Lex smirked as the bartender slid him a glass of Schnapps on the rocks. Lex smirked and reached over, tapping the tip of his index finger on the tip of Claire's nose. "I do like them clever."

Claire reddened, clearing her throat before taking another deep sip from her drink. She paused and swirled the contents of the glass for a few moments before nodding resolutely. "The lounge is a couple's area. They're only bringing up couples getting hot and heavy," she said quickly as though ripping off a band-aid. "And we need to get up there."

"Miss Branigan," Lex said with a lopsided grin, "that sounds an awful lot like a proposition."

"All I'm proposing is that we do whatever is necessary to get the information we need from this place," Claire snapped defensively. "I don't like it here, and I know you don't like it here. We just have a job to do."

Claire was, of course, correct - this place was loud and overloading, and far from where Lex otherwise would have wanted to spend his time. Indeed, he considered himself above this kind of place. Hearing this from Claire, however, only cemented in his mind that she belonged with him. She belonged to him, because she and only she knew him this well.

"Then by all means," Lex said, leaning closer to her and pausing, lingering before again snaking an arm around her waist and resting her forehead against hers. Briefly, he relished the closeness to her before stating, "let's get to work."

And without protest from Claire, he brought his lips down onto hers, using the arm around her waist to press her body close to his.

The familiarity of it all seemed to drown out the rest of the sound and the smoke of the club surrounding Lex. This, at the very least, was something that had not changed. He knew she would later say that it was all for show, that this was part of the ruse to get the information they needed tonight, and he would let her tell this lie all she wanted. It quite frankly was of no consequence to Lex.

"Can they see us?" Claire asked, pulling away from Lex just enough to be able to speak. Lex smirked against her lips.

"We're us. Of course they can."

"Good."

Lex couldn't help but relish in the wave of haughtiness that washed over him when Claire's kisses became more fervent - when her nails raked over the back of his neck, when her breaths became audibly ragged as their embrace continued.

For a moment, he thought in the heat of the moment that perhaps he should have told her that he'd never laid a hand on Priscilla Rich - that the woman was a business associate whom he quite frankly considered too far below him to dirty his hands on. He had known what Claire assumed when she saw them in his receiving room, and he'd admittedly enjoyed seeing her squirm, but the fact of the matter was that the thought of Priscilla Rich's skin on his skin repulsed him in a way Claire never could. He could tell her, he thought - and it would be a strategic disclosure. It was a concession of vulnerability that would bring her back to his side.

Before he could speak, however, the sight of movement in his peripherals distracted him, and distracted Claire as well so that they both stepped apart, though hesitantly, and turned to see a large-figured man in all black approaching them.

"Enjoying your evening, you two?"

The way he regarded them gave Claire the inkling that he didn't know who they were - something refreshing when it came to being spotted with Lex Luthor in any case. Willing to play along for whatever reason, Claire gave a believable giddy laugh, leaning into Lex's said. "Definitely," she said with a grin, nuzzling Lex's neck affectionately in a way that admittedly caused a familiar pulling sensation in the pit of his stomach.

He knew this wouldn't work. As clever as Claire could be, Lex had to admit this was not one of her brightest schemes. They could be who they were with the history they had and expect not to be noticed - they especially could not expect for someone like Desaad, someone with a plan who would take definite precautions to ensure its success, to let them sneak by.

But it didn't matter, Lex decided. He would let her think anything she wanted if it kept her this close.

"Mister Desaad'll be happy to hear it," the bouncer said with a nod. "I have instructions to invite couples upstairs to the lounge to make them more comfortable. Can I tempt you two?"

Claire briefly locked eyes with Lex, and he again saw the familiar glint of mischief and determination that reminded him that this was the woman he knew. Pulling her closer and holding her more tightly to himself and smirked at the bouncer before replying, "Consider us tempted, pal."

"Right this way, then."

Lex smirked in amusement upon seeing Claire very subtly tighten and pump her fist in hidden victorious gesture behind her back as he placed a hand on her waist, ushering her through the crowd behind the usher.

"We're in," she leaned over to speak in Lex's ear as they made their way through the crowd in the space cleared by the bouncer. "Now, we just need to get close to Desaad."

As they were allowed pass the velvet rope and up the stairs to the lounge, Claire took a seat next to Lex on one of the plush couches and reached over for a pair of crystal champagne flutes on ice in a recessed, LED-lit icebox in the center of the table, pouring each of them a glass of the pink champagne kept chilled among the glasses.

As they did a mock toast and drank their champagne, Claire's eyes darted around, affirming with some relief that at the very least, the other patrons were too occupied to look at them. Her gaze then moved over to the gold-trimmed door, just as it was opening once more.

"We need to get wherever that door leads," Claire said, once again assuming the admittedly convincing ruse of being unable to keep her hands off of Lex. She leaned over him, resting her hand on his knee and allowing her hair to drape over her shoulder on one side. Lex managed a sidelong glanced towards the door and noticed the sight of a figure, just out of sight, speaking directions to the bouncer - an olive-skinned, mustached man in a nice suit, who seemed to be pointing out a couple on a couch across the way before disappearing back up the dimly-light stairs.

"I think," Lex said, reaching over and placing a hand on Claire's face, tracing his thumb over her bottom lip, "we've found who we came looking for."

Momentarily, both Claire and Lex were transfixed, seemingly frozen in the moment as they stared at one another. For a moment, something about this contact felt real again. Briefly, it was not merely a means to an end.

Unsurprisingly, it was Claire who tore her gaze away first, leaning back onto the couch and retrieving her glass of champagne. This action, though she had done this very same thing before, felt strangelt like a denial.

"We need to get up there," Claire spoke up after a long sip, though it was beginning to sound more and more like she was saying this, Lex noted, to convince herself of something. She leaned over to kiss him again, fervently but now palpably forced. Something about it sent a visceral sense of disapproval through Lex. The sensation right now of her skin on his, of her lips on his felt like _everyone else's_ , and this was wrong. Though the entire night up until then had been for show, it had only now come to feel _false_. _His Claire_ was not meant to be false like others were. This was not acceptable. This was not the way _his_ Claire was meant to feel.

Lex gently pushed her away, garnering a perplexed expression from the woman. Lex Luthor was not a sentimental man, but he was a particular one, and while he very much wanted Claire Branigan back at his side where she belonged, there were limits. There were standards. He did not want her like this.

"Lex, did you hear me?" Claire asked in a low voice. "We need to get up there -"

"When did you become like them?" Lex asked with a strange sneer of a smirk, tilting his head to one side and chuckling darkly at the confused expression on Claire's face. "Since when did you start playing God like your little friends?"

"Lex, we don't have time for this right now -"

"Because you're on a crusader, and the crusader will do anything it takes to get the job done," Lex interrupted in an almost sing-song voice, the volume lowered to a near-whisper. "Even if it means taking advantage of someone to do it -"

"I'm not taking advantage -"

"Whose idea was it to get us up here?" Lex asked, moving suddenly, almost ominously as he shifted his weight. He was now sitting up, and he had caused Claire to jump and nearly fall until he caught her by the waist in a strangely intimate position, as though he were dipping her as they danced. "You knew very well I would comply."

Claire found that she could not protest. There was a small amount of truth. She knew Lex Luthor better than perhaps anyone. She knew that her plan was playing on his weakness for her, but she couldn't bring herself to see it as taking advantage. Hadn't coming here at all been his idea? Hadn't he manipulated her into coming in the first place?

_"Good evening."_

Normally, neither Claire nor Lex were to sort to be easily snuck up on, but in moments such as these where things were boiling over, both apparently made exceptions to the rule. They turned to find a man - the man from the staircase who had to have been Mister Desaad - standing by them and eyeing them intently.

"You must be Mister Desaad."


	52. Chapter 52

_"Good evening."_

Normally, neither Claire nor Lex were to sort to be easily snuck up on, but in moments such as these where things were boiling over, both apparently made exceptions to the rule. They turned to find a man - the man from the staircase who had to have been Mister Desaad - standing by them and eyeing them intently.

"You must be Mister Desaad," Claire spoke up, attempting to recover her composure. "This place is lovely -"

"Thank you, Miss Branigan. I'm glad you're enjoying my humble establishment," Desaad said with a barely perceptible smile. "But you and Mister Luthor can spare the niceties. Might I request that the pair of you return downstairs to make room for other couples?"

"I'm sorry?"

They'd failed. Claire felt as though things were swirling into a blur, whirring like winds around her. Desaad knew exactly who they were. They had failed. Desaad was here in front of them, the answers were so close - but he was asking them to leave.

"Come, now," Desaad said with an ominous laugh and an irk of his eyebrows. "You and Mister Luthor are certainly no strangers to special treatment. Club Desaad is about bringing luxury and pleasure to the people," he said, gesturing at the lounger around him. "This place isn't for you."

He cocked his head to one side and made eye contact briefly with Claire, making it obvious that he knew exactly who she was in particular - that he knew her history, that her presence in his club was no mere coincidence. Her connection to Darkseid ruled out the possibility of coincidence from the very start - she just could no longer remember _why_ , no matter how hard she tried. When Claire did not immediately back down, he locked eyes with one of his bouncers who slowly started walking towards them.

"Now," Desaad said, raising an eyebrow. "Be a good girl and go back downstairs. You too, Mister Luthor."

"Fine," Claire sneered, her eyes narrowed. She glanced back at the gold-lined door one more time before storming off back towards the staircase without Lex, descending the stairs and going back into the throng of people in the main body of the club.

_"Claire."_

Once she had reached the bottom of the stairs, Claire heard Lex following her but did not turn around. She kept walking rapidly, deeper into the crowd of dancing patrons, stopping only when she was caught by the crook of her arm. Still refusing to turn around, she again tried to walk away.

"Claire -"

Lex's grip on Claire's arm tightened, pulling her closer to him in the throng of people dancing around them so that he could see every angry line on her face. "We need to get back up there," Claire practically snarled, looking up at the door at the back of the VIP lounge before looking back at Lex. "There has to be another way. We had him right there."

Lex found himself somewhat disturbed by the expression on Claire's face because it was one of pain, and for that matter, a pain with which he was horribly familiar. She was someone who had been hurt and was desperate to make sense of what had happened to her. She was someone whose control over her life had been taken away, who wanted more than anything to take that control back.

It then dawned on Lex also that Claire regarded the encounter with Darkseid, which had given her powers and made her one of them, was an event she regarded as something that happened to her. She was still his Claire. She didn't care about the power and the strength she now possessed. She didn't want it. She didn't want to be a threat to him, and in Lex's mind, this settled everything. She still felt small, in spite of everything she was.

"He knows we're here, he knows who we are," Lex said, holding her arm firmly so that she could not pull away from him. "We aren't getting anywhere near him tonight. We aren't going to get what we need, Claire. Use your head -"

"Coming here was your idea, Lex. You brought me here," she hissed. "If you're not going to help me, I'll get it done myself."

Using the slightest bit of her newfound strength, Claire managed to pull her arm out of Lex's grasp and take a few steps into the crowd. Lex felt himself tense at the thought of losing her in here - of being left alone in the crowd that was loud and enormous and threatened to swallow him alive. Partly manipulative, partly in panic, Lex's arm quickly shot out again and just barely grabbed a hold of Claire's hand before she could disappear into the crowd completely, pulling her back towards him and closing in, bringing his lips down to hers.

" _You_ ," Lex said, just barely pulling away enough to be able to speak and be heard, "aren't going anywhere."

Claire's gaze briefly met his, and his eyes swept over her face and her chest which was slightly heaving with breath and reddened from the heat in the crowded room. He remembered the little thing he used to tell himself many months ago, that a little chaos looked good on Claire Branigan, and reaffirmed to himself that was in fact still true, which in and of itself was satisfying.

Claire, however, felt a barrage of very different things in the moment - the most prominent of which was anger. Moments ago, Desaad had been right there in front of her, and yet the answers to what he was doing or what she could do to stop it had never been so far away. And now, here was Lex Luthor kissing her as though things were the way they were before, acting as though she was still anything to him when she had been striving so hard to convince herself there could not be. He, too, was right there, but in Claire's mind very much still off limits. The fact that so many of the things that Claire wanted so badly were so unattainable ate away at her inside - and what felt even worse in this moment was that Lex did not seem to realize none of this was a game to her in the slightest.

Feeling the beginnings of hot tears building behind her eyes, Claire tore herself away from Lex and pushed her way through the crowd to the front of the building, getting clear out the front door and into a side alley before she stopped to catch her breath. She took in a few deep gulps of the cold evening air before leaning against the brick wall of the building and shutting her eyes.

This was a mess. She was a mess.

She sucked in a shuddering breath, pressing the heels of her hands against her eye sockets and growling, almost feeling anger towards the fact that she couldn't keep herself from crying.

It hadn't dawned on her until now how much it mattered to her that they got answers from Desaad. Before she realized what was happening, an all-out sob wracked her chest and she drooped, crouching and leaning back against the wall.

During the time she had been possessed by Darkseid, she remembered bits and pieces, but not enough to give any definitive answers. She knew that she had been here to Club Desaad, but could not pull anything more from her memory despite her hardest efforts. It was as though all of it had happened for nothing.

With her head buried in her hands as it was, she couldn't see anyone coming, but she could hear footsteps drawing nearer to her and stopping in front of her - she knew it was Lex. Not looking up and keeping her face buried, she shook her head.

"Go ahead. Laugh."

But no sound of Lex's telltale laughter came. Instead, Claire felt something drop onto her shoulders - the familiar feel and scent triggered her to look up when she realized that Lex had dropped his coat onto her shoulders. When she finally looked up at his face, she was surprised to find that the expression he bore was not one of amusement or condescension. He looked puzzled - concerned, even.

"You knew this wasn't going to work, didn't you?" Claire asked, her voice flat. She couldn't bring herself to feel angry about it, but a part of her knew that Lex had never expected to get any answers from Desaad tonight. He had merely engineered a situation as a means of getting close to her. And Claire realized that a part of her had suspected this from the start, yet had never said anything in protest. She had simply come.

In spite of herself, Claire let out a small, bitter laugh. She shook her head and got back to her feet while clutching Lex's jacket around herself unconsciously. "I was so stupid," Claire laughed sadly. "I just wanted answers. After what happened, I just wanted to know why all of this was happening - what the point of all of this is."

None of this made sense. Ever since the first encounter with Darkseid and the Mother Box, all of this had ceased to make sense. It had taken over her life, and Claire was resigned to that fact - she just wanted to know what for.

"You never would've found the answer you were looking for anyway," Lex said, taking a few steps closer to her so that they were only a few inches apart. "Because there's only one right answer. We're -"

"- ants," Claire finished in unison with Lex, her voice distant and tired. "We're just ants, walking through life, trying not to get stepped on..."

"But you and I," Lex added, raising and wagging his index finger for emphasis, "we were never just ants when we were together, were we, Claire?"

Claire opened her mouth to say that this was ridiculous, only to find that the words crumbled to dust on her tongue. She couldn't say it because she wouldn't have meant it. When she had been with Lex, it had been the first time that she felt as though her actions mattered - that she was a person mattered - and it was a feeling that she had never been able to get back. She missed that feeling.

She missed him, and he saw the resistance leave her eyes. He took a few stalking steps forward and put his hands in his pockets, tilting his head to one side. Now, he stood practically toe-to-toe with Claire, who had her back against the wall.

"If you're going to walk away from me," Lex began with a smirk. "I'd suggest you do it now."

Claire remembered the last time Lex had spoken those words, the first time they had been together in Central City. She remembered the doubt and the conflict in his face when he'd said it then, a far cry from the look on his face tonight. Tonight, Lex Luthor was sure of her answer, so sure that he could taunt her with it.

She could be angry with him for being right later.

Perhaps with a little force than she'd meant, she reached out and tugged Lex forward by the collar, her lips crashing desperately against his and finding that he met her with equal fervor.

Lex would not have said it in so many words - not now, anyway - but it was intoxicating to think that someone was truly his, even moreso when that someone was Claire Branigan. Justified or not, he had built a pedestal in his mind upon which to keep his image of Claire, and she would remain on that pedestal whether she wanted to or not.

He had nearly forgotten the way that Claire seemed to silence the constant buzz of activity that usually crowded his mind, the sometimes nonsensical flights of ideas that left him sometimes completely detached from the ground he stood on. Because that silence and that clarity had returned, he had full presence of mind when he felt Claire slide something smooth and flat into his hand - the hotel room key he'd handed her earlier in the evening. He pulled back from their embrace and raised an eyebrow.

"Your move," Claire replied, shrugging her shoulders.

Lex grinned wolfishly, sparing not even a second before grasping Claire's hand and starting with her off towards the hotel across the street. If Claire Branigan was in fact giving him a move, then by no means was he about to waste it.

Lex Luthor always made a point of leaving the door wide open for Claire Branigan in either direction - he considered it a constant test of her loyalty that he continued to give her opportunities to walk away from him. She did not walk away as they made their way across the street, or up the elevator, or through the doors of the penthouse suite. Lex shut the door behind them and watched her closely. She did not walk away as he took the few stalking steps needed to close the space between them, or when his hands trailed up her arms and pushed her dress down her shoulders like a snake shedding its skin.

His expression was odd and unreadable as he watched her for her next move. He reached out and traced a hand over her face as she reached up to unbutton his shirt, her fingertips trailing over the skin of his chest.

Yes, he finally concluded as they fell undressed into bed together in a tangle of lips and limbs, Claire Branigan had - as she always did - passed his test.

* * *

Claire had to admit, she had expected to feel a little worse when she woke up a couple of hours later, realizing that she was still in bed with Lex Luthor, that he still had his arm draped possessively over her as he slept. She had started to slowly slide away from him when from the enormous bay window of the penthouse suite, a bright flash of light erupted from the top story of the building across the street - from the heavily tinted windows of Club Desaad.

Claire quickly got to her feet, picking up Lex's shirt from the foot of the bed and pulling it on to cover herself up before rushing to the window for a better look while Lex sat up in bed as well. She stood at the window, staring and waiting to see if it would happen again, only to be met with the sight of the dark, tinted windows.

"Whatever that was," Claire said, looking across the way to the tinted glass around the top story of Club Desaad. "It had to have been pretty bright if we saw it from here, through glass that dark. Something's going on over there."

"Correct me if I'm wrong but the fact that something's going on isn't exactly new information," Lex said with a chuckle, shaking his head. "No matter. It looks like we'll be playing the long game with Mister Desaad."

"We?"

Claire turned around with an expression of childlike confusion - not resistance, or refusal, or frustration. Just confusion. She walked back to the bed, sitting on the side with her legs hanging off, her gaze glued to the floor as she struggled to find what to say next.

"This - this was -"

"Spare me," Lex said in an amused tone, and Claire looked up to find him smirking at her. "You're going to say this was a mistake and it shouldn't have happened. You'll walk away. You'll try to stay away for a while, and then it'll happen again. You've grown a little predictable, you can save your energy."

"We can't - we can't be _anything_ ," Claire insisted, shaking her head. Lex, however, replied only with a nasal, patronizing laugh, leaning back and lacing his fingers behind his head.

"Claire," he said with a cluck of his tongue. "Look at us. We're everything we ever were. We're _more_ than we ever were."

"Because we had slept together again _one time_?" Claire shook her head incredulously, getting to her feet again and looking at Lex with her arms crossed in order to keep his shirt closed over herself. "We are not what we were, Lex. This," Claire said, gesturing between the pair of them in their states undress, "isn't what made us what we were. Whether you admit it or not, you don't trust me anymore. If everything was the same, I would know what you were doing when I wasn't with you. I wouldn't need to spend every day wondering about you. I wouldn't have had to find out about Desaad from you over lunch. That's not what we were. I'm just another metahuman that you don't trust, Lex, _admit it_ -"

But suddenly, Lex was on his feet, looming over Claire with his hands braced on her shoulders, pulling her closer to him. "You are not," he said with a strange kind of fury in his eyes, "one of them."

"You don't really believe that."

Lex released Claire and took a step back, regarding her calculatingly for a moment before releasing her and smirking, cocking his head to one side. The sudden shift in his demeanor, Claire knew, meant something was afoot. "Get dressed," Lex said,"and I'll show you something that'll prove otherwise."


	53. Chapter 53

Claire sat in the passenger seat of the white Rolls Royce as Lex drove, feeling strangely apprehensive at the thought of what on Earth he could be showing her that could prove anything. Moreover, she wondered why, if she felt so apprehensive, why she came - but the answer to that question was a simple one. It was Lex Luthor, and when it came to Lex Luthor, whether Claire could admit it or not, the possibility of her answer being 'yes' was always on the table. When it came to Lex Luthor, Claire could never truthfully say that the door was shut.

They pulled through the private back entrance to LexCorp's headquarters - the rear access point that led to the private, secured elevator which Claire knew led to all of the things Lex didn't want anyone to see. Wordlessly, she followed him into the elevator as he allowed the security devices to scan his handprint for authentication. There was a buzz and a brief set of clicks before a steel panel on the elevator wall slide back to reveal an additional row of buttons. Lex reached over to hit a black button labeled Sub-Level 4.

Sub-Four. Claire recalled when headquarters had been broken into, this was the level he had said mattered the most. There was something here - something big.

Claire found her hands growing clammy as the elevator smoothly, slowly descended, reaching a stop after what genuinely felt like hours, even if it was really on a matter of seconds. Lex shot her a brief smirk before the elevator doors slide open, revealing a single hallway that led to a large steel door. He walked ahead of Claire and again used his palm on a scanner, leading another panel on the wall to slide back and reveal a keypad. Lex punched in a long string of digits, and after a brief pause and the sound of pistons pumping, the steel door slide back to reveal yet another dark room.

"After you," Lex said with a grand gesture into the darkness. Hesitating, Claire gritted her teeth before striding into the darkness.

When the door closed behind her and she found herself submerged in total blackness, realizing that she was now stranded without escape on a sublevel of LexCorp headquarters, the possibility that maybe trusting Lex Luthor without question was a mistake first dawned on Claire. She felt Lex's hand close over hers and pull her forward a short distance as though he could see in the dark. Then, his hand suddenly left hers, leaving her standing in the darkness without an idea of what was around her or where she should go.

"Lex," Claire hissed into the blackness. "This isn't funny. Where are you taking me? Lex -"

"Down, down, down," Lex recited in a sing-song voice, and Claire tensed when she realized the sound of his voice was circling her. She flinched when she felt his hand graze over her back, where he knew her tattoo would be. "I wonder how many miles we've fallen by this time -"

"Lex," Claire interrupted, her hand reaching out in the darkness and unconsciously seeking his. "This isn't funny." Claire was frozen in place, unwilling to take a step for fear that she had just walked into a trap. When the sound of a throaty chuckle directly in front of her cut through the darkness, Claire's fears were not assuaged.

"I brought you here to show you something that I'm... quite proud of," Lex chuckled, and Claire felt the hairs on her arms stand on end as she realized that even if she could not see a thing, she could tell how close Lex was. "But before I show you, a question. How," he asked, and Claire flinched when she felt the tip of his finger tap the tip of her nose, "does one defeat a god?"

Now, Claire's entire body tensed - the discussion of defeating gods meant only one thing. Lex Luthor had not moved past his obsession with Superman now that he knew Clark Kent was still alive. He was showing her something that had to do with trying to be greater than Superman. She opened her mouth to make some feeble attempt at reasoning with him, only to be beaten to the punch by Lex, who began making a ticking sound with his tongue.

"Times up!" he said brightly. "The answer is -"

"To turn him human?"

"Wrong!" Lex chirped. "Tried that one already. Nice try, though. The correct answer is..."

Lex paused, and Claire felt his hand close around her again in the darkness, gently pulling her forward until her steps fell onto what felt like a metal grate - a platform that swayed ever so lightly under her feet.

_"...to become a god yourself."_

Claire couldn't help but give a small snort of laughter as Lex precisely timed the lights along the metal walkway they stood on coming on, but the laughter died from her eyes when she realized what she was looking at.

It looked something like a suit of armor or an exoskeleton housed in a large glass display case at the end of the platform. It was made of a strange, unfamiliar metal that Claire had never seen before, a metal that looked a deep shade of forest green when the light hit it. The core areas - the abdomen and chest, the inner legs over the femoral arteries, and a few other areas, were made of a different, opalescent material that looked almost royal purple in the light, clearly made to be flexible but reinforced for protection of the wearer's vulnerable places.

"You've been busy," Claire said feebly, unable to find anything else to say under present circumstances. How was a person supposed to respond, she wondered, to being shown something like this? Lex was a genius. He was good at what he did. There was no denying that Lex Luthor could meet and exceed nearly any intellectual challenge placed before him, but it was now placed in harsh perspective that he could - that he _would_ and always _had -_ been a rogue as far as what he used his genius for.

She cleared her throat and took a step backwards before looking over at Lex, the contours of his face illuminated by the lights lining the walkway they stood on. Her brow wrinkled as she regarded Lex, then finally took a few hesitant steps towards the suit suspended in the glass case at the end of the walkway. She stopped once she had finally stepped past Lex, but she could still feel his eyes on her. "Why are you showing me this?" Claire asked, glancing over the exosuit. "It's - it's amazing. Everything you do is amazing. But I don't understand why -"

"Because," Lex said, and judging from the sound of his voice and the sensation of his warm breath practically down her neck. "You're you. Because you're mine and I know you won't betray me. This," he said with a wide gesture of his arm towards the exosuit, "is how I _win_. I realize now, there will always be men in the sky. They always leave out part of the story of Icarus, you know."

Lex's movements and his breaths grew a little more erratic, almost as though he had been _waiting_ to tell Claire all of these things. "His father told him not to fly too high - but we always forget that he told little Icarus not to fly too _low_ ," he said with a wag of his index finger. "And that was the answer, Claire. We don't fight men in the sky with our feet on the ground. We meet them in the clouds."

Claire froze, her eyes still trained intently forward. So this was it - this was Lex proving that he trusted her as much as he always did. This was the way the game was going to played. She gulped hard and drew her posture up straight. It was undeniable that whatever this was in front of her, whatever Lex's reasons were for creating it, it was impressive and amazing, and Claire expected nothing less from him. "I - I shouldn't be here," Claire said weakly.

"But you are."

Finally, Claire wheeled around to face Lex, her expression fierce and disbelieving as the weight of this revelation seemed to settle on her shoulders. "Why can't we just - just stop this?" Claire asked, shaking her head. "I'm not a part of this. Why can't you leave me alone?"

"You know exactly why, Claire. You tested me. You _challenged_ me," he said matter-of-factly, striding past her with his hands in his pockets before again spinning on his heel to face her. "And I accepted your challenge. Now, it's your turn. You're here because you love me, and you know that I love you. Because you know we're stronger together."

After a long, nonplussed silence, Claire laughed in disbelief, throwing her arms out to her sides and looking up at the ceiling. "You're unbelievable," she said, taking a step back. "This is insane. All of this is insane. You're supposed to be happy when someone says they love you, but all I can think of is how crazy all of this is, Lex, and -"

"What would you have said?" Lex interrupted, his voice suddenly quiet and his eyes narrowed as he took another step closer to Claire. At this point, it was almost as though they were doing some kind of dance on the walkway. "Just before the Mother Box. You're too smart, Claire. I know you know."

Lex was, Claire hated to admit, correct. She knew and remembered what their conversation had been leading up to before Darkseid's arrival. She had even been, perhaps, mentally already rehearsing an answer. She knew completely what the question was and what her answer would have been.?

"What would I have said if you'd asked me to marry you?" Claire asked, affirming his suspicion that she had all this time been aware. "I would have said yes. I would have said yes, without a second of hesitation, and I would've never looked back."

But there was no joy in the revelation, and no finality. It was simply a fact that Claire was stating that had no bearing on their present circumstances, and Lex could her it in her voice.

"You would've been happy."

"Yeah," Claire said feebly. "Yeah, I think so."

"You can still be happy. With me," Lex said matter-of-factly, tucking his hands again into his pockets. "Your choice. Always has been, Claire. Or you can let them have control of your life. Your choice."

Choice. For whatever reason, the concept of having a choice had felt foreign to Claire for a long time. Everything for a good while now had been dictated by a sense of duty. She had to stay away from Lex. She had to learn how to use her powers. She had to make the right choice, every single time. For perhaps an entire year of her life now, as damaged as it had been, Lex had been the only one to present Claire with the possibility of choosing her own fate.

What if, Claire wondered, she didn't need to choose between being one of the good guys and one of the bad guys? What if it was, as she had said over and over again, _bigger_ than that?

"I can't believe I'm even considering this," Claire murmured, shaking her head and looking down at the ground as she paced a few times back and forth across the narrow walkway.

"I don't think," Lex began, taking Claire by the crook of her arm and gently tugging her towards him, stopping her pacing momentum, "that there's been a moment in the past few months that you haven't considered it."

With another short tug, he had pulled her to himself and kissed her again, though he couldn't help a brief flinch of surprise when he found that there was no pause before she reciprocated. He'd expected to have to play cat and mouse a little longer. He hadn't genuinely expected her to choose him so quickly. He briefly pulled away and glanced over Claire's face with a scrutinizing expression.

Claire realized, then, that somewhere deep and dark, he had not expected her to choose him at all. Lex had grown so accustomed to having to negotiate for his allies, to have to play games in order to avoid being alone. There was a desperation and a loneliness in him that Claire connected with, and whether she admitted it or not, that she would give anything to keep him from feeling.

The realization was simultaneously unsettling and freeing. A smirk played at her lips as she cocked her head to one side.

"I'm in."

It wasn't until her lips were again soundly pressed against his that Lex realized that Claire - his Claire - was finally back.

**Author's Note:**

> By popular demand, I am cross-posting this story on AO3 and will try to update both AO3 and FFN simultaneously. Also a note that this is technically now AU, as it operates on the premise of Lex Luthor Jr. being imprisoned in Metropolis State Penitentiary rather than Belle Reve, as well as a few other world-tweaks. Thanks, and until next time - cheers!


End file.
